


This Is It, The Apocalypse

by ProbablyVoldemort



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyVoldemort/pseuds/ProbablyVoldemort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was not, as titles may lead you to believe, the actual apocalypse.  It was close though.<br/>Marinette and Adrien went missing for eight days.<br/>Not even Ladybug and Chat Noir could find them.<br/>Of course, Ladybug and Chat Noir had bigger problems than looking for themselves, since, you know, they weren't technically missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mysterious Disappearance of Marinette and Adrien

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Back again with my third new fic in two days. Because apparently I'm insane.  
> Anyway! I had this idea and so now it's happening. Not much to say about it. The other chapters will be longer, but this one isn't too long but it got all the information I needed so whatever.  
> So yeah! Read up and enjoy!

Wednesday morning began like any other. Nino had turned around in his desk to talk to Alya, as neither of their desk mates were there. Nothing was out of the ordinary with that, as Adrien had unscheduled photoshoots all the time, and Marinette was notoriously late.

The bell rang, and Nino turned back to the front. Neither Adrien nor Marinette had stumbled into the classroom yet, but no one was worried. 

Any minute now, Marinette would come sprinting in and trip her way to her seat. 

Any minute now, Adrien would do the same—albeit with more grace—or Nino would receive a text asking him to pick up his homework. 

Any minute now, Mme. Bustier would remind the two that this behaviour was not acceptable and that she’d have to tell their parents soon.

Any minute now.

Until the minutes lengthened and multiplied.

Until the class ended with the ringing of a bell and Mme. Bustier left the class.

Until the students were waiting for their next teacher to arrive.

Until Nino and Alya were called to the principal’s office.

M. Damocles sat behind his desk as the two crowded in.

Two police officers stood behind him.

Alya’s hand instinctively reached for Nino’s, clutching it for dear life.

“Nino, Alya,” the principal said. “You’re close with Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste, aren’t you?”

Alya’s stomach dropped. “Yes.”

M. Damocles nodded, and one of the police officer’s, Sabrina’s dad, stepped forward.

“When is the last time you heard from either of them?”

“We all went out for ice cream after school,” Alya said, her voice shaking. Nino’s hand gripped hers harder. “And I was texting Marinette after dinner. Why? What’s going on?”

Officer Roger looked at Nino, ignoring Alya’s question. “And Adrien?”

The boy shrugged. “We texted last night.” He looked at Alya. “They’re okay, right? Nothing bad has happened?”

Officer Roger glanced at his partner. “Marinette and Adrien were not in their rooms this morning.”

 

Thursday morning began with Chloe bragging.

“You’ll never guess who’s staying in my hotel.”

Nobody particularly cared about who was staying in Chloe’s hotel, if we’re being frank. Everyone was more concerned about Marinette and Adrien, who still hadn’t shown up. Alya and Nino were plotting ways to get out of class to search without their parents finding out the skipped.

Chloe herself had been distraught the day before, but now it seemed that whoever was staying in her hotel overshadowed her concern for Adrien.

Anyway, nobody really cared all that much about the mysterious guest, but that didn’t faze Chloe.

The girl climbed up on her desk, making her presence known. “I said you’ll never guess who’s staying in my hotel.”

Alya sighed heavily. “No one cares, Chloe,” she pointed out. “Aren’t you at worried about Marinette and Adrien? Or at least Adrien?”

Chloe huffed, her hands on her hips. “I was,” she said. “But now I’m not. Because I’ve put my guests on the case and they’re going to find him and it’ll all be okay.”

Kim finally bought into her act, at least to shut her up. “Fine, Chloe,” he said. “Who’s staying in your hotel?”

Chloe smirked. “Ladybug and Chat Noir. They came in costume, so I’m sure they’re having a secret affair or something. But now they’re looking for Adrien, too, so everything will be fine.”

Alya made a mental note to break into Chloe’s hotel later to ask Ladybug and Chat Noir to look for Marinette, too. But, as much as she hated to admit it, knowing that the superheroes were looking for their friends did make her feel slightly better about the whole thing.

 

Friday morning began with theories. Everyone had a theory about where Adrien and Marinette were and what they were doing.

They ran away to London to get married.

They were kidnapped by Hawkmoth.

Marinette was having a baby.

They were both akumatized and would make themselves known any moment.

They eloped in the middle of the night and were now living in Canada.

They were secretly the leaders of an underground drug ring and were currently hiding in Croatia to avoid the police.

They witnessed a murder and the witness protection program sent them to somewhere in South America.

They were taken in by a Hawkmoth worshiping cult and were currently being held captive to be sacrificed at the next full moon.

They were planning a surprise party that would be so much of a surprise that they forgot to tell anyone that they’d be gone.

Alya didn’t believe any of the rumours, except maybe the kidnapped-by-Hawkmoth one. She may have accidentally started that one. The point was, Marinette and Adrien were still missing, and not even Ladybug and Chat Noir had managed to get a lead on what happened to them. If they’d eloped, Marinette would have told her, and Adrien would have told Nino. Heck, they would have been there.

So something was definitely wrong to not have heard from them for so long.

She sighed, collapsing onto her desk. She couldn’t care less about the upcoming exams when Marinette was gone. She was counting down the minutes until school would get out so she’d finally be allowed to search. 

 

Saturday morning began with an akuma attack, and, for the first time ever, Alya wasn’t front and center.

If she had been there, she would have noticed that Ladybug and Chat Noir seemed to be stalling, dragging the attack on longer and longer, that they seemed to be taking more time than was necessary to defeat the akuma.

She would have noticed that Chat used a total of eighteen Cataclysms during the fight without ever disappearing to transform, that Ladybug used thirteen Lucky Charms.

She would have noticed that, when the fight finally ended, Ladybug and Chat Noir looked disappointed as the fist bumped.

But she didn’t notice any of that because she wasn’t there. Alya and Nino were up with the sun, scouring the city from dusk to dawn for any sign of their friends.

They went to bed that night disappointed.

 

Sunday morning began with a ransom note from a man claiming to be holding Marinette and Adrien captive.

He wanted eight million euros a piece by midnight, or he’d kill them.

Sabine and Tom were distraught. There was no way they could get one million euros in one day, let alone eight.

Gabriel called them over, saying that he’d pay the ransom and get the kids back, and sent Nathalie about pulling sixteen million euros from the Agreste account.

The police devised a way to catch the man who had taken their children after they exchanged the money.

Ladybug and Chat Noir argued that they shouldn’t pay the ransom, that the man didn’t really have Marinette and Adrien. Sabine and Tom and Gabriel were furious with them for even suggesting to not do everything they could, and Gabriel had the heroes removed from his house.

Because, impossibly, the man had proof that he had the kids, and Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t say anything against it. No one wanted to chance Marinette and Adrien’s lives on the hunch of strangers, even if those strangers were superheroes.

By midnight, a random man was sixteen million euros richer, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste were still missing.

 

Monday morning began with two rumours.

The first was sparked by a photo posted on the Ladyblog by one of Alya’s followers. The user had caught Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing on a rooftop in the middle of the night before.

Alya was a lot less excited than she thought she would be at confirmation of the heroes being in a romantic relationship. It might have had to do with the fact that her best friend wasn’t there to share in the excitement. It might have had to do with the fact that, for a moment, she’d forgotten, having turned to tell Marinette the news.

Even Chloe didn’t have the heart to say I-told-you-so, having claimed that as the reason Ladybug and Chat Noir were staying in her hotel. They still were, but it was a lot less fun when the heroes had suggested not paying the ransom and having the man kill Marinette and Adrien, even if they’d ended up being right.

The second rumour came from a text from Alix’s brother. Apparently Marinette and Adrien had been spotted near the Seine.

Alya and Nino ran from class, hope they thought they’d abandoned bubbling up once more. But by the time they got to where the police still stood, Marinette and Adrien had vanished, if they’d even been there at all.

 

Tuesday morning began with weather that matched the moods of those who missed Marinette and Adrien. Rain pelted down in sheets, and Alya shivered as she darted into the school. Even with her umbrella, she was drenched, as was most of her class.

She hoped that Marinette and Adrien, wherever they were, were dry and warm, that they had some way to stay out of the rain.

The crazy theories were gone. It wasn’t like Marinette and Adrien to disappear without a trace. They wouldn’t just run off without telling anyone, especially not for this long. Ladybug and Chat Noir hadn’t mentioned anything, so they probably hadn’t gotten kidnapped by Hawkmoth, and they hadn’t made an appearance as akumas.

They were just gone.

Alya wasn’t the only one who was thinking the worst. As Mme. Mendeleiv put the class through a review for their upcoming final, everyone was uncharacteristically quiet. Because they all knew one thing.

If Marinette and Adrien still hadn’t shown up, something bad must have happened.

No one voiced it. No one could bare to voice it. Voicing it would make it real, and it was bad enough that Sabrina was keeping the news quiet that her dad had mentioned they were now looking for bodies. She didn’t dare tell Chloe that, nor anyone else.

So they suffered in silence, mindlessly working through physics problems while not talking about how their friends were still gone.

 

Wednesday morning, eight days since Marinette and Adrien disappeared, began as any other day would.

It started to get abnormal partway through first class, in the middle of Mme. Bustier’s lecture.

It started to get abnormal when the door opened.

And Ladybug and Chat Noir walked into class like they did it every day.

Wearing Marinette and Adrien’s backpacks.

The day went from abnormal to completely insane when Ladybug and Chat Noir sat in Marinette and Adrien’s seats and pulled out their textbooks and notepads like absolutely nothing strange was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where were Marinette and Adrien for that week? Why did Ladybug and Chat Noir risk their identities to go to class? What is happening?  
> The next chapter will answer all of those questions and more!  
> I hope you liked it. I have a vague idea for a premise, but basically I’ll be winging it after like chapter two so we’ll see how it goes!  
> Let me know what you think!  
> Comments are life and asks are golden! Hit me up on Tumblr at im-not-voldemort!


	2. An Untimely Hibernation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One of Marinette and Adrien's Disappearance:
> 
> Ladybug and Chat Noir have a crisis and a sleepover, Master Fu is less than helpful, discoveries are made, and Chloe saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry it took so long for chapter two to come. I don't really have a good reason. This story just didn't get prioritized I guess and then I had most of the chapter written since like mid August and I dunno why I didn't finish it but whatever. It's here now.  
> Anyway, these chapters were getting long, so we'll be getting approximately one chapter for every day of Marinette and Adrien being missing and then get on with the rest of the story.  
> Also we went from 1700 words in chapter one to 8900 in chapter two. Oops. And here I was thinking that I could manage to condense enough to fit the entire week into three chapters.  
> Enjoy :)

“Later, Chat.” Marinette grinned and waved before jumping off the building and yo-yoing away.

It was a Tuesday night, and they’d just finished one of the most boring patrols they’d ever had. There had been no akumas and no regular crime either. Not even a pickpocketer! It was, as previously mentioned, highly boring.

It did, however, mean that Marinette would actually get to bed at a decent time and, as long as the combined efforts of her alarm clock and Tikki managed to wake her in the morning, she would probably be able to make it to school on time.

So boring wasn’t necessary bad. It was just…boring.

She slipped in through her open skylight, landing on her bed and flopping out onto her back with a sigh.

“Spots off,” she commanded, her eyes closed. Sleep was coming. Sleep was good. She could sleep for, like, a month and then maybe she might make up for all her late nights. “There’s cookies on the desk for you, Tikki.”

But the kwami didn’t answer. Marinette peeled open one eye, looking around. “Tikki? Where’d you go?”

She reached up with a polka-dotted hand to brush her bangs out of her eyes, sitting up and—

Wait. She held her hands out in front of her, staring wide eyed down at their polka-dotted-ness. These weren't supposed to be her hands. They were supposed to be pale and fleshy, not polka-dotted and spandex-y. She’d dropped the transformation, hadn’t she?

She tried again, staring at her hands as she said the words and—

Nothing happened.

Her eyebrows furrowed together and her heartrate sped up. Why wasn’t this working? She shouldn’t be Ladybug anymore. What was wrong? This didn’t make any sense. Something wasn’t right.

Marinette was on the verge of hyperventilating when the yo-yo at her hip rang, and she pulled it open. Chat’s face lit up the screen, a sheepish look on his face.

_“My Lady, I seem to be having some purr-oblems getting out of costume.”_

Marinette let out a breath, flopping back down against her bed and dropping her yo-yo in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

 _“Me-wow, Bugaboo.”_ Chat’s voice was muffled from the way the screen was resting on her stomach. _“While I agree that I do look hot in leather, and the fact that you think it looks so good on me that you want me in it twenty-four-seven is great and all, this is going to cause some problems, you know. I can’t exactly go to school like this. Or home, for that matter.”_

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Marinette picked the yo-yo back up, holding it in the air above her face so she could see her partner again. “I’m just glad I’m not the only one dealing with this.”

Chat’s eyebrows scrunched together for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. _“Any idea what to do?”_

Marinette shrugged. “Not really.” She sighed, glancing over at the clock. So much for getting to bed at a decent time. “Want to meet up and figure it out?”

Chat grinned at her through the screen. _“Usual spot. Five minutes.”_

 

“It didn’t work.”

Adrien stared at his ring in confusion, the green paw print still full despite having used Cataclysm seven times in the last half hour. He should have run out of time ages ago. This wasn’t making any sense.

Ladybug wasn’t having any better luck, as the growing pile of ladybug-spotted pillows and blankets on the rooftop beside them proved. He’d lost track of the number of times she’d called on her Lucky Charm. His Lady was quite obviously freaking out, waiting for less and less time between the beeps. She tore at her hair, all but ripping out the ribbons as she paced.

“My Lady,” Adrien started, standing up from his seated position. There was nothing left for him to destroy, not on this rooftop anyway. Besides, if it hadn’t worked the first seven times, it probably wasn’t going to work the eighth.

Ladybug didn’t seem to hear him, crying out for another Lucky Charm and tossing the resulting quilt to the pile. Adrien wasn’t exactly the expert here, but he was pretty certain that whatever force chose the Charms was sending them a message. It wasn’t necessarily a message he _liked_ , but it was a clear message all the same.

He crossed over to Ladybug, resting a hand on her shoulder and prompting a startled jump. She sniffed and turned her face away.

“This isn’t working,” he pointed out gently, pulling the yo-yo from her shaking hands.

“It will work,” Ladybug insisted, snatching her weapon back without looking at him. “It has to work.” She threw it in the air again, catching the pillow that fell from within.

They stood in silence, Adrien counting out the seconds as they passed. Five minutes. Five minutes and she hadn’t even lost a single spot.

He sighed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Making more Lucky Charms isn’t going to do anything,” he told her, and she ripped away, glaring at him with tearstained cheeks.

“It has to!” she cried. “It has to work, Chat. Don’t you get it? I can’t be Ladybug all the time. I just can’t. We have to fix this.”

“Hey, I know.” Adrien pulled her back into his arms. He couldn’t be Chat all the time, either. Sure, he could get the top of the suit off any maybe model shirts, but overall that wasn’t going to work. None of it was. His father would definitely be furious that he’d been sneaking out, and his friends would all be mad since he definitely punched all of them in the face at least once. Except Marinette. But she’d hate him even more than she already did since he had to go and flirt with her every time they met up while he was in costume. Why had he thought that was a good idea? Ladybug’s eyes caught his as she blinked up at him. Right. There was definitely a conversation going on. What was he talking about? Oh yeah. “We need to get out of the costumes, but this way isn’t going to work.”

“Then what do we do?” Ladybug’s eyes pleaded with him, tears gathering up again. “If I don’t get up for breakfast tomorrow, my parents are going to notice. They’re going to think something bad happened.”

Adrien bit his lip. What could they do? The timers weren’t working, and the detransformation words weren’t working. What else was there? Unless—

He let out a laugh. “God, Bugaboo, I feel like an idiot.” She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to dispute the point that he was an idiot whether he felt like one or not, but he ignored it. “Have you tried taking the earrings out?”

Ladybug perked up, going so far as to grin at him before diving behind the chimney with a cry of “No peeking!”

Adrien stared at his right hand, taking a deep breath before he gripped the ring and pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled even harder.

It wouldn’t budge. It wouldn’t even spin around on his finger.

He kicked the chimney behind him, letting out a string of curses that Nathalie would be appalled to hear come from his mouth. He fisted his hands, pounding on the bricks. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t something that was allowed to happen. He couldn’t be stuck as Chat Noir.

Chat was his escape, but he didn’t want to leave his life. If he was stuck as Chat, he couldn’t go home. He couldn’t see his friends or his father or have any kind of a normal life. He wouldn’t be able to go to school or graduate or go to college or get a house. He wouldn’t be able to do anything.

He took a deep breath, pulling away from the chimney and wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape. He couldn’t freak out. Not right now, not when Ladybug was already so upset over the whole thing. He had to be strong for her, had to figure out a way to fix this. He could freak out later, but right now she needed him.

“I hope you’re having better luck than me, my Lady,” he called, arms crossing over his chest. He waited a few moments, but she didn’t respond. “My Lady?”

The only response was a sniffle, so Adrien circled the chimney. Ladybug was huddled on the ground, knees pulled up to her chest. He settled beside her, and she curled into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said quietly. He didn’t know what to think. He’d never seen Ladybug break down so quickly before. It was almost like they were back at Stoneheart, when she didn’t think she could be a hero and wanted to quit. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“But what if we don’t?” Ladybug’s words were hardly a whisper. “What if we’re stuck like this forever?”

His claws grasped her chin, tilting it up so she could look at him through her teary gaze. “You can’t think like that,” he told her. “We’ll go see Master Fu in the morning, early enough so you can get back before your parents notice you’re gone, and then one day we’ll laugh about this.”

She sniffed. “What about you?” she asked. “Won’t your parents notice you’re gone?”

Adrien let out a dry chuckle, his hands moving to rub circles into her back. “My father hardly notices I’m around to begin with. His assistant will notice though.” He frowned. “We need to fix this before he fires her for losing me.”

Ladybug looked concerned for a moment, her eyes squinting together as she studied him, before she stood out of his embrace, holding out a hand to help him up. “If we’re going to be out here all night, we might as well get comfy,” she pointed out, pulling him towards the Lucky Charms.

He grinned, flopping into the pile. “We can have a slum-purr paw-rty. What happens at those again? Braiding each other’s hair and gossiping about boys?”

Ladybug snorted and smacked him with a pillow. “Or we could just try to go to sleep,” she suggested, sinking down beside him and pulling a blanket over them. “God, I was excited to actually get to sleep at a normal time tonight and now it’s—what? Two? Three?—and I’m sleeping on a roof with you.”

“But this is better than going to sleep at a normal time,” Adrien insisted, hesitantly wrapping his arms around Ladybug as the girl curled into his side. “I’ve heard I make a really comfy pillow.”

Ladybug laughed, her own arms holding him tight. He let out a sigh of relief. She was back to normal, almost. He could deal with teasing Ladybug. He didn’t really know how to handle anyone, really, when they were crying and upset, let alone her.

“Who told you that?” she wondered. “All your girlfriends?”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend,” Adrien sighed. “I’ve never really had a sleepover before, either.” Ladybug pushed herself up to stare down at him and he shrugged. “My father’s never really approved of any of my friends, and a sleepover would just be an unnecessary distraction.”

Ladybug looked like she wanted to say something, but chose not to, curling back into him instead. “Well, I’m honoured to be part of your first sleepover,” she said. They were quiet for a few minutes before she spoke again. “We can gossip about boys if you really want to, Chaton.”

Adrien grinned. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, my Lady.” He sighed dramatically and she laughed against his chest. “So. Adrien Agreste, huh?”

Ladybug squeaked. “What?”

“You said you wanted to gossip about boys,” he pointed out. “I’m gossiping.”

“Goodnight, Chat.”

Adrien laughed. “No, no, we’re doing this slumber party thing.”

“Only nerds call them slumber parties.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a nerd. Now, stop distracting me while I’m gossiping.” He could feel Ladybug’s silent giggles against his chest. “Where was I? Right. Adrien Agreste. He’s pretty hot, don’t you think?”

“Chat,” Ladybug groaned. “Stop it.”

“I think he’s pretty hot, personally,” he continued. “All that blond model-ness. Pretty hot.”

“Go. To. Sleep.”

“You know.” Adrien grinned, poking Ladybug in the side. “A buddy of mine saw Adrien Agreste take his shirt off in the shower—”

“Chat.”

“—and he said that Adrien Agreste had an eight pack.” Was quoting a skit where the person was talking about themselves giving away too much? Nah. “That Adrien Agreste was shredded.”

He waited for her to say the next line. It would just make his day. But Ladybug didn’t say anything.

He poked her again. “You’re supposed to say _Adrien Agreste is a punk bitch_ ,” he told her. “That’s your line. Go.”

“Chat, just go to sleep.”

“That’s not the line,” he pointed out, his grin spreading as he poked her again. “Unless you don’t think Adrien Agreste is a punk bitch.”

“Chat.”

“Unless you think he’s hot.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Nuh uh, my Lady.” Adrien shook his head, attacking Ladybug’s sides with pokes. “You wanted gossip and now you’re not gossiping. We’re not going to sleep until you either say the line, or give me some good gossip.”

Ladybug was silent again, swatting at his hands as they continued their attack. “Fine!” she finally cried, and Adrien’s hands finally retreated, waiting for her to call him a punk bitch.

“Adrien Agreste is hot.”

Wait. What?

“What?”

“Like, really hot, and he does pretty much have an eight pack, so your joke doesn’t even work.”

Adrien blinked at the back of her head, wishing he could see her face. “You’ve seen m-Adrien Agreste without a shirt?” Why did that come out of his mouth? Why was that what he was focusing on?

“Everyone’s seen him without a shirt,” Ladybug pointed out. “He does shirtless ads, and none of it is photoshopped.”

“How—?”

“Pool party.” Ladybug lifted her head, her face glowing red. “Are you happy now? Can we go to sleep?”

Adrien grinned, feeling his own face heat up and thanking whatever was out there that he was the only one with night vision. “Very happy.” Why wouldn’t he be? Ladybug thought he was hot, and liked his abs. The fact that she had seen them in person at a pool party was a bit confusing, but he’d think about that later. He darted up to press a kiss against her forehead, feeling the skin crinkle under his lips as she wrinkled her nose. “Sweet dreams, my Lady.”

She rolled her eyes, lying back against the pillows. “Night, Chat.”

 

Marinette woke with something heavy on her chest. It was difficult to breathe, but whatever was crushing her was really warm, so she found that the not-breathing part wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

The rising sun shining directly into her eyes, however, was another story.

Clearly she wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep, so she groaned and opened her eyes—and was met by with a faceful of blond.

Somehow in their sleep, Chat had ended up sprawled on top of her, their legs tangled together and his face buried in her neck. This was…this was strange, to say the least, to wake up with an admittedly attractive eighteen-ish year old boy on top of you.

She’d slept on a roof with Chat Noir. What even was her life?

She maneuvered a hand from under his body and, sure enough, it was still covered in spandex. Because clearly it would have been too easy for the transformations to drop while they were asleep.

Right. They would go talk to Master Fu and he’d fix this and she’d make it to school in time to find out what would be on the biology final and no one would know that she’d spent the night cuddling with Chat Noir on a roof.

“Good plan,” she told herself, nodding.

But before any of that could happen, she first had to go about the apparently excruciatingly difficult task of waking Chat up.

Marinette poked him in the shoulder. “Hey. Chat. You’re squishing me.” All she got in answer was a sleepy mumble as he pressed even closer, arms tightening around her. She sighed, and shook him again, her other arm too trapped to be of any use. “Chat. Seriously. You’re on top of me.”

“Good,” he muttered, his breath tickling her neck and making her shiver. “Comfy.”

“Chat, I know you’re awake,” she pointed out, shaking him again. “If you don’t at least get off me, I’m gonna throw you off this roof.”

Chat let out a long suffering sigh and rolled off of her, wrinkling his nose and covering his face. “Why is it so bright?” he whined.

“That would be the sun,” Marinette informed him, ignoring her rumbling stomach as she stood. “Let’s get to Fu’s before my alarm goes off.”

Chat didn’t make any move to get up as Marinette started throwing pillows and blankets into the air, repeatedly cleansing the city. She doubted it would do anything, since there hadn’t been an akuma to clean up after, but it was better than having to lug around a bunch of sleeping stuff. Chat gamely rolled off anything as she went to grab it.

“Let’s go,” she said, holding out a hand and pulling Chat to his feet. “I want to get this over with so I have enough time to eat breakfast.”

 

Master Fu was doing yoga when the doorbell rang. Which was weird. Not that he was doing yoga, but that the doorbell had rung, since the store wasn’t open yet and he wasn’t expecting any visitors.

So Fu left Wayzz to his own yoga, traipsing through the house to let in two teenagers whose lives he would be changing again with a simple conversation.

 

Marinette tapped her foot impatiently as they waited for Fu to answer the door. Chat was looking around, seemingly paranoid that someone would see them. The sun was getting higher in the sky and she checked her yo-yo again. Half an hour until her alarm would go off and her parents would go upstairs to see why she wasn’t getting up.

The door finally cracked open, and she all but jumped on Master Fu.

“Something’s wrong,” she hissed, pulling Chat in quickly behind her and shutting the door. “Something’s wrong with the Miraculouses.”

Fu blinked up at the heroes for a moment, before muttering something under his breath and taking off down the hallway. Marinette shared a look of confusion with Chat, and they hurried after the old man.

He was seated at a low table when they caught up, Wayzz perched on his shoulder, and he gestured for them to sit across from him.

“What seems to be the matter?” he asked.

Marinette took a deep breath. “So we went on patrol last night and then it ended and then saying “Spots off” wouldn’t drop the transformation and then Chat called and he couldn’t get out either so we met up and I must’ve made, like, thirty Lucky Charms and Chat destroyed a bunch of stuff, too, and we can’t take the Miraculouses off either and—”

“In less words,” Chat interrupted, shooting her an amused look, “we can’t drop our transformations or take off the Miraculouses.”

Marinette felt herself blush. Why did she have to ramble? What was wrong with her? “Yeah. What he said.”

Master Fu just chuckled, relaxing back. “I was afraid for a moment that there was an actual issue going on.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open and she could only blink at him for a few moments before her voice returned.

“What do you mean, you though there was an _actual issue?_ ” she demanded, glancing quickly at Chat who looked just as confused as she felt. “This _is_ an actual issue! We can’t keep our secret identities if we can’t change back!”

“Ah.” Master Fu folded his hands together on top of the table. “I assume your kwamis haven’t spoken to you about hibernation, then?”

“Hiber-what?” Chat asked, his hand clutching Marinette’s under the table.

Fu nodded. “Every few centuries or so, each kwami needs to hibernate for a while,” he explained. “They’ve exhausted all their energy, and sleeping is the only way to bring it back.”

Marinette nodded. This made sense. Sort of. “But why couldn’t they have just hibernated before we got the Miraculouses?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Wayzz told them, floating down to rest on his master’s hands. “When we’re waiting for a new master, inside the Miraculous, we’re in a form of stasis. We cannot change, and thus we cannot recharge our energy. We can only hibernate when we have a chosen, someone who can keep feeding us energy as we recharge.”

“So we’ll be like this until they’ve finished hibernating?” Chat confirmed, and Fu nodded. “And that’ll take, what? A day? Two?”

Fu only shrugged. “It depends,” he said. “It could take a couple of days, or weeks, or months. Wayzz spent the entirety of the nineteen twenties in hibernation.”

“No,” Marinette breathed, squeezing Chat’s hand tighter. She couldn’t make herself say anything else, the process of making words happen taking too much effort. Fu was making this up. He had to be. There was no way that this could happen, that there was a chance they’d have to spend a decade in the suits.

“You’re joking, right?” Chat deadpanned, pulling her into his side when he felt her start to shake. “Please tell me this isn’t going to last more than a couple of days.”

“It will almost definitely be more than a couple of days,” Master Fu said, shrugging as if their chances at normal lives weren’t being destroyed in a blender. “It has been more than a few centuries since Tikki and Plagg have been recorded to hibernate. I’m not sure how long this will last.”

“Okay.” Chat ran the hand that Marinette wasn’t clinging to through his hair. “Okay. How do we speed it up?”

Master Fu blinked. “Speed it up?”

“Yeah.” Chat squeezed her hand. “What do we do to make sure this gets done as fast as possible?”

Master Fu shook his head. “The hibernation will take exactly as long as it needs to,” he said. “No more, no less. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Chat dropped her hand rising to his feet faster than should have been possible. “This is bullshit!” he cried, glaring down at the man with hands on his hips and a stomp of his foot. “What the hell are we supposed to do? We have _families_ , Fu! And friends! We can’t just disappear for God knows how long without causing problems! What are we supposed to do?” Chat’s fury turned to pleading as he begged for help from the one person who could possibly give it.

Without Chat to cling to, Marinette curled in on herself, her breathing quickening. This wasn’t happening. This could not be happening. She was going to have to abandon her family, her friends, everyone. She couldn’t live her life as Ladybug. It was impossible. Her parents were going to think she was dead, and her friends weren’t going to know where she was, and she’d never get to tell Adrien how she felt. She’d never get to become a fashion designer, since Ladybug couldn’t go to college, and she’d never be able to have a real job or get married or have kids or anything.

She barely registered Fu’s face twisting into a smile through her panic. “Now that’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourselves.”

“That’s shit advice!” Chat yelled, reaching down to grab her hand again and yank her to her feet. “You could have warned us, you know? A simple _hey, this jewelry gives you powers but there’s also a high possibility it’ll make you have to abandon your entire life_.” He turned, pulling Marinette towards the door. “We’re leaving.”

She didn’t know how they got out of the parlor, but next thing she knew she was on the street, breathing quickly as her vision swam before her.

“I can’t believe this,” Chat muttered, having dropped her hand in favour of pacing. “This is absolute shit. What the actual hell—” He broke off, finally looking at Marinette. His anger dropped at once, and he popped up in front of her, suddenly in her face. “Hey. Hey, Bugaboo. I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” She shook her head, her breaths coming in in gasps. “Yes, you can,” he assured her. “I know you can.” He grabbed her hands, pressing them against his chest and taking a deep breath. “Just breathe with me, okay? Follow my breaths, Ladybug. In. And out. And in.”

Marinette tried to concentrate on his voice, on the steady rise and fall of his chest under her hands. It took a while before she could match his breaths, and then she was collapsing against him, letting loose a sob.

Chat’s hands released hers, wrapping around her to gently rub circles into her back. “You okay now, my Lady?” he asked quietly, and she nodded, feeling him sigh in relief. “Is it cool if I pick you up? We can’t be seen right now.” She nodded again, and then he was holding her tighter, vaulting them onto the roofs.

“I don’t know what to do, Chat,” she whispered, sinking onto the ground. “In a few minutes, my parents are going to figure out I’m gone. Your…assistant, too. Everyone’s going to think we’re missing. What do we do?”

Chat was quiet for a long moment, taking the time to sit beside her and wrap an arm around her again.

“The way I see it,” he finally said, not meeting her gaze as she looked up at him, staring out into the city instead, “we’ve got three options. Option one: we tell the world who we are. Everyone knows our identities, but we get to keep our lives and we don’t have to hide.”

“We can’t do that,” Marinette whispered, drawing her knees to her chest. “We can’t put everyone in danger like that.”

Chat nodded. “I know,” he agreed. “It was just an option. Next is option two: we head back to our rooms before anyone notices we’re gone and get our cellphones and whatever money we have. We send texts to everyone important, making up some excuse of running away, and give them the number to our new untraceable phones that we buy, and then destroy our original phones. Sure, they’ll be mad, but they won’t think we’ve been kidnapped or anything.”

Marinette swallowed heavily. “My phone is in the pocket of my pyjamas,” she confessed. “The one’s I’m wearing somewhere under this.” She gestured at her suit, and Chat sighed.

“Mine’s in my pocket to.” He was quiet for a moment. “We could find a payphone somewhere? Call up our parents and let them know?”

Marinette barked out a laugh. “And say what?” she asked. _“Hey, Maman. Sorry that I’m not home but I’ve decided I need to leave the country. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this random guy you’ve never me to protect me. No, he’s cool. He runs around in a leather cat suit though, sometimes. No, I don’t know when I’ll be back. Could be tomorrow, could be when I’m fucking forty.”_

“So maybe that won’t work.” Chat’s claws traced patterns on her arm.

Marinette spoke up eventually, breaking the silence. “That leaves option three,” she pointed out. “Which is…?”

Chat didn’t speak for a long moment. “We don’t tell anyone anything,” he finally whispered. “We just disappear, and let them think whatever comes to mind. We leave them behind, and we try to move on. We find some way to make money without making it seem like we’re always in costume, and we rent out a hotel room or get an apartment for as long as this takes. And, when it’s over, or we defeat Hawkmoth, or at whatever point we feel it’s safe to tell them, we come back. Or we don’t, if that’s what makes more sense. We’ll decide what we do when we get there. But we deal with this together, we face whatever comes with this together, and we don’t abandon each other. No matter what.”

Marinette felt the tears roll down her cheeks again. This was what they were left with? Leaving their loved ones to think the worst indefinitely just to protect them? Chat’s arm squeezed tighter around her, and he took a shuddering breath.

“A week,” she whispered after a long silence. “We go with option three for a week, and try to figure out something better, some sort of middle ground.” She turned her head into his chest. “I can’t let them think I’m dead. I just can’t.”

Chat nodded, his chin brushing her hair. “One week,” he agreed, watching the police cars speed by in the direction of his house, lights and sirens blaring.

“We should tell each other.”

Marinette pulled away, blinking up through blurry eyes at her partner. “What?”

He looked down, offering her a sad smile. “We should tell each other who we are,” he clarified. “I’m kind of famous in my civilian life, and I know they’ll make a big deal out of me being missing. My father will no doubt insist the police get us involved. I don’t want to be going on some wild goose chase trying to find myself, just because you insist on finding the poor missing rich boy. And….” He trailed off, hand moving up her back to twist in one of her pigtails. “I have a feeling we know each other, my Lady. Outside the masks. There’s just been too many coincidences for us not to. I don’t want to waste time trying to find a friend when she’s right beside me.”

“I know.” Marinette nodded, looking down. “I think we should tell each other, too.” Her stomach rumbled, and she glanced back up at Chat through her eyelashes. “Maybe after we find some breakfast?”

 

Sabine sighed, listening to the blaring of Marinette’s alarm coming from upstairs. Honestly, that girl could sleep through an akuma attack happening in her bedroom. She tossed her tea towel over her shoulder, crossing to the stairs that lead to her daughter’s room.

“Marinette,” she called, pushing open the door. “Your alarm’s been going off for twenty minutes, dear. You’re going to be late.”

When Marinette didn’t answer, she pulled herself into the room, starting up the ladder to the loft. “Seriously, Marinette. What am I going to do with—”

She cut herself off, staring at the empty bed. It was still made, hardly a wrinkle in the blanket.

“Marinette?” she called, panic rising in her voice as she peeked out through the open skylight. Her daughter wasn’t up there either. “Marinette!”

She scrambled back into the room and down the ladder. “Tom!” she yelled, voice cracking as a sob racked her body. “Tom!”

Her husband came barrelling upstairs, flour smeared on his face. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Marinette,” she whispered, staring at her daughter’s empty bedroom. “She’s not here.”

 

“Adrien, open this door,” Nathalie commanded again, huffing when she got no reply. “I’m coming in!”

The warning wasn’t noticed either, so she pushed open the door. “You’re going to have to miss breakfast,” she told her charge. “We can’t have you being late for school. Adrien?”

He wasn’t in his bed. He wasn’t anywhere in his room, actually. Nathalie scowled, crossing to the bathroom. If he was taking an hour long shower again—

But the shower wasn’t running. She gave a loud knock and a warning before swinging the door open, stepping into the empty bathroom.

Nathalie cursed under her breath, raising her phone. “Siri, locate Adrien Agreste.”

There was a pause before the robotic voice answered. _“Cannot locate Adrien Agreste.”_

Nathalie swore again, punching in the numbers to phone the boy.

It went straight to voicemail.

“Adrien,” she snapped. “You have five minutes to return this call, or I’ll have to inform your father that you’ve snuck out again. Five minutes.”

She counted the seconds, but it was far less than five minutes before she was dialing again.

“Adrien, tell me you’re alright.”

When five minutes had finally passed without even a text, she gripped the phone harder, trying to steady her shaking hands before she called again.

_“Nathalie? What is so important that you had to phone during my meeting?”_

She swallowed heavily, bracing herself. “It’s Adrien,” she told him. “He appears to be…missing.”

 

Gabriel froze, the words echoing in his head. Missing. Like his wife, now his son was missing.

He steeled himself, turning back to his associates gathered at the table.

“It seems we’ll have to postpone this meeting,” he said. “An urgent family matter has come up. I’ll leave you to see yourselves out.”

His footsteps were slightly faster than normal as he stalked back to his office, phone pressed tightly against his ear.

“You’re sure he didn’t just run off to that school again? Or a friend’s house?”

Nathalie was quiet for a moment. _“I very much doubt he would run off to school when he’s already allowed to go,”_ she pointed out, and Gabriel had to agree. _“I’ll call the school and see if he’s there. His friends are always waiting when we pull up, so, if he did go to their houses, he should be there already.”_

Gabriel let out a sigh, pushing into his office and locking the door behind him. “Let me know what you find out,” he said simply, hanging up.

He paced his office as he waited. What was Adrien thinking? Where would he go? It pained him to think that he didn’t know the answers to either of these questions, that if he’d paid enough attention to his son’s life then he should know.

His phone blared a few minutes later, and he pounced on it. “Well?”

 _“He’s not there.”_ Nathalie’s voice rang out clearly. _“All his friends have arrived, but a Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’ve been trying to reach her house on the other line, but it’s been busy. I just sent M. Gorille there himself, so we should be hearing from him any minute—ah. Here he is.”_

There was a low beep as she added the bodyguard into the call.

“Did you find him?” Gabriel demanded.

 _“No,”_ the man said, and Gabriel felt his heart sink. _“There’s something else, though.”_

Gabriel was filling with dread. Whatever Gorille had to say wouldn’t be good, he could already tell.

 _“What is it?”_ Nathalie snapped.

 _“Marinette.”_ Gorille paused, taking a deep breath. _“She’s missing, too.”_

Gabriel felt the sudden urge to curl up in a ball and cry. He couldn’t do that, not now, at least, so he did what he did best in a crisis. Take charge.

“Stay there,” he ordered, slinging on his jacket and pressing the button on his desk for his driver to bring the car around. “Make sure the police know that just as much effort should be going into finding this girl. Nathalie, phone the police. After you’ve spoken to them, I want you to find out as much as you can on the nature of my son and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s relationship. Are they dating? Could they have run off together on some sort of delusional date? I’ll be home in a minute.”

He clicked off the phone, stuffing it into his pocket and leaving the office. He hoped beyond anything that his son was being a lovesick fool and had just run off with this Marinette without telling anyone. He hoped, but he had a feeling that something bad had happened.

 

Adrien sat next to Ladybug, tucked under some hidden alcove on some random rooftop, a paper bag from a nearby bakery resting between them. The croissants weren’t as good as the ones from Marinette’s bakery, but Ladybug had insisted they go somewhere else when he’d suggested it.

He’d brought up something pointless when they’d sat—he couldn’t remember what—and Ladybug had seemed to catch on, so they joked and talked about TV and dumb YouTube videos and giggled on the rooftops. They had to make the best of this. They couldn’t just sit around crying until the hibernation ended.

Ladybug finished telling a joke she’d read on the internet, and they let the laughter die down. She fidgeted with her croissant, tearing into little pieces.

“You first or me?” she asked, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.

He took a deep breath. This was it. He was finally learning Ladybug’s identity, and, somehow, he’d thought it would be happier than this, more exciting.

“You can choose,” he offered, pushing the bag aside to lean forward.

Ladybug let out a puff of air, seeming to steal herself. “Okay,” she said, nodding in agreement to herself. She stuck out her hand, offering him a shy smile. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It’s nice to me—oof!”

Adrien cut her off as he tackled her into a hug, squishing her against the rooftop. “You’re Marinette?” he repeated. “You’re really Marinette?”

“Yeah,” she grunted, pushing his elbow out of her gut. “I am. I take it you’re happy about that?”

“Thrilled,” he whispered into her neck, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin. Marinette was his Lady. That was…this was amazing! Two of his best friends were the same person. “I can’t think of anyone more wonderful to be you, my Lady.”

Marinette stopped struggling against his grip, sinking into it instead. “So does this mean you were right and we know each other outside the masks?”

He nodded against her, pushing back just enough so he could see her face. “It’s _really_ nice to meet you, Marinette,” he purred, giving her a lazy grin as he stole her line from early. “I’m Adrien Agreste. I’d shake your hand, but you’re kind of lying on them right now.”

A parade of emotions flashed across Marinette’s face too fast for him to catch any. He dared to hope most of them were good.

And then she frowned at him.

“I can’t believe you,” she muttered, sending him a glare. Adrien’s grin disappeared and he pulled back, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“I could prove it, I guess,” he offered. “I don’t know why—”

“I _cannot_ believe you,” Marinette said again, louder this time. She sat up, too, pushing into his space and poking his nose hard. “I can’t believe you’re so full of yourself that you made me tell you you’re hot last night.”

Adrien’s worry melted away, and his grin came back at full force. “To be fair, I was sure you were going to call me a punk bitch,” he pointed out, grabbing her finger and shaking it. Marinette let out a spluttering laugh, falling forward to press her forehead against his shoulder.

“We’re still good, right, Kitty?” she confirmed, words puffing out against his neck. “This, us, we’re good?”

“We’ll always be good, my Lady,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss against her hair.

 

Alya fidgeted with her pencil. Why was this happening? Why would Marinette and Adrien just disappear? She and Nino had returned to the classroom with Sabrina’s dad, the police officer going over the details with the class. They weren’t in their rooms this morning. No one had seen them since early the night before. If you have any idea where they might be, please tell someone at the first possible moment.

This was all done with a heavy implication that Marinette and Adrien had run off together. Which, no. Sure, Marinette could actually talk to Adrien by now. Sure, they’d been getting closer. But there was no way in hell they’d just run away together without telling anyone. They weren’t like that, Alya knew.

So Alya was silently fuming in her desk, waiting for a chance to sneak away and help look for her friends.

Chloe was freaking out. Honestly, you’d think she’d be quiet and listen to how she could help get Adrien back, but no. She was in full blown panic mode, and already had her father on the phone.

Everyone else was handling it with a bit more dignity. Sure, they were all worried that Marinette and Adrien had suddenly disappeared, but they’d only been gone for maybe a night, maybe only a couple of hours. The police would find them, and everything would go back to normal.

Alya sighed, biting back a retort at Officer Raincomrix’s hundredth insinuation on the stupidity of running off with your significant other, and pulled open her phone. She added another to the long list of unanswered texts to both Marinette and Adrien, and then hovered her finger over another button. She took a deep breath, before opening it and uploading a picture of her missing friends, one taken a few days ago at lunch as they laughed over something that probably wasn’t even funny.

 _Hey, Ladybloggers,_ she typed. _Alya here with some upsetting news. My friends Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste have gone missing. If you see them, or have any idea where they might be, please let the police (and me, but mostly the police) know right away. Ladybug and Chat Noir, I know you’re probably busy with superhero stuff and might not even read my blog, but if you see this, can you please keep an eye out for them? Thanks._

She hesitated for a second, then hit post.

 

Marinette stared down at the checklist in her hand.

**Day One:  
• Find somewhere to stay for tonight—pre-fur-ably with continental breakfast  
• Don’t go anywhere near our homes or our friends  
• Getting a Bank Account for your Secret Identity For Dummies  
• Find a part time job? Does saving kittens from trees pay well?  
• Don’t run into the police  
• Fight an akuma to let off some steam because technically this is all Hawkmoth’s fault  
• Punch Hawkmoth in the face**

They’d managed to avoid anyone they knew all day, which was a blessing in itself. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage to deal with that when it inevitably came up. They hadn’t run into the police, either, which was nice. They both agreed that it would be better to avoid having to search for themselves for as long as possible.

Getting bank accounts as Ladybug and Chat Noir had been, surprisingly, the easiest thing to check off. It turned out the city had been giving them compensation all this time, and four years of crime fighting really added up. Which saved them from having to find work while in costume for now.

Unfortunately, an akuma had never made an appearance, so they weren’t able to fight out their feelings. Adrien’s half-jokingly scribbled objective hadn’t been met, either, since it was kind of hard to punch a guy who you didn’t even know what he looked like.

Which only left the first one. Finding a place to stay.

And that was how Marinette Dupain-Cheng found herself in the lobby of le Grand Paris, booking a room with Adrien Agreste. Or Chat Noir. Either way, it was just as thrilling and slightly terrifying in an _oh-my-god-I’m-sharing-a-hotel-room-with-a-really-attractive-guy-I-kind-of-really-like_ kind of way. If only Alya could see her now.

“Got it!” Adrien grinned at her as he crossed the room, waving the key cards. Marinette grinned back, folding the checklist up. “They were trying to make me take the room for free, but—” He cut off as the doors to the elevators slid open and a wave of screaming people ran their way.

“An akuma?” Marinette guessed, but then they were being all but tackled, sheets of paper shoved in their faces.

“Fans, I think,” Adrien corrected, scribbling a quick autograph on someone’s paper. He shot a glance over to the receptionist, who had shrunk behind the desk. “I’m pretty sure I asked to keep this on the down low, though.”

Marinette sighed, accepting a pen from someone and starting on her own autographs, pasting on a smile for the endless selfies being snapped. Was it too much to ask for a quiet night? Maybe they should have just slept on a roof again....

“Move! Everyone get out of my way!”

Marinette let out a sigh. She never thought she’d be grateful to see Chloe.

The blonde pushed her way through the crowd, wrapping her arms around Marinette’s neck and posing for a slew of selfies of her own. Marinette sent a scowl at Adrien, who wasn’t even bothering to hide how funny he found the newly revealed fact that Chloe Bourgeois was unknowingly hanging off Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I knew you’d wise up one day and come stay in my hotel,” Chloe was jabbering. “I just can’t believe it took so long for you to come visit me. You are here to visit me, right? Apparently they’ve got you put in a room somewhere, but obviously that’s not good enough for you, Ladybug. I’ll have Daddy move you up into my room, and Chat Noir can keep your room. It’ll be fun! We can have a sleepover and everyone will know we’re best friends and—”

“Chloe,” Marinette interrupted, finally managing to extract herself from her classmate’s clutches. “I think I’ll stay in my room with Chat. But if you could clear the lobby so we can get up?”

Chloe brightened up, thrilled to have a task from her favourite superhero. “Oh, of course!” she trilled. “Listen up, peasants! Ladybug needs to get to the elevator, so clear out!”

Amazingly, they made it to the elevator, Chloe following them in and closing the doors before anyone else could enter. Chloe seemed to deflate for a minute, Marinette catching her suddenly dour look in the mirrored doors. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair wasn’t as perfectly in place as it usually was.

Adrien noticed, too, even as his friend turned around with a smile pasted on her face once more.

“Chlo,” he started, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She slapped his hand away, scowling before turning back to Marinette, who noticed her partner’s smile fade.

“It’s actually really great that you’re here right now, Ladybug,” Chloe said, her smile cracking slightly. “Adrikins, he’s gone missing. So has that Maribrat, but that’s not important. Sabrina thinks they might’ve run off together, but I told her that Adrien would never be caught dead with someone like her.” Her smile disappeared completely, and Marinette was shocked to see actual concern on Chloe’s face. “But it’s great because now that you know, you’ll find him, won’t you, Ladybug?”

Marinette bit her lip, glancing past Chloe at Adrien. He was staring at Chloe with an unreadable look on his face, and didn’t even seem to notice Marinette was looking at him.

“Yeah,” she said finally, turning back to Chloe. “We can try.”

Chloe let out a screech, tackling her hero again. “Thank you!” she cried. “Thank you so much! I know that if anyone can find him, it’ll be you.”

The elevator doors slid open again, and Marinette felt a lump of guilt sink into her gut. “Yeah,” she agreed. “This is our floor.”

Chloe sighed, flipping her hair. “Are you _sure_ you wouldn’t rather come sleep with me?” she questioned. “My room is way more fitting of a superhero than one of these.”

“I’m sure Chloe,” she said sincerely, stepping into the hallway. “We’re here on secret superhero business anyway, so Chat and I have to stick together. Are you coming?” Her final question was directed at her partner, who jumped out of whatever daze he’d been in.

“Chlo,” he said again, grabbing his friend’s arm, which was quickly jerked away.

“Why are you talking to me?” Chloe demanded, eyeing her arm where he’d touched with a disgusted look.

Adrien opened his mouth as if to say something, before lowering his head and following Marinette out into the hallway. Chloe waved goodbye before the doors closed once more, leaving the heroes alone.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette wondered, pulling Adrien towards their door.

He shook his head, sliding a key card through the reader, and didn’t speak until they were in the safety of their room.

“I should feel happy that Chloe’s not smothering me, right?” he wondered, not looking up from an interesting spot on the carpet.

Marinette frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s stupid, really,” he muttered. “But when Chloe came downstairs, somehow I thought it would be normal. I mean, she hangs off Ladybug the same way she hangs off Adrien, so why wouldn’t she do the same to Chat? He’s a superhero, too, right? I just…I thought that maybe that would be one thing that wouldn’t have to change, that Chloe would still be Chloe and treat me the same whether I’m wearing the mask or not. But she doesn’t even want to look at me when I’m Chat.”

In all honesty, Adrien couldn’t believe he was having an existential crisis because of Chloe being Chloe, but it’d been a long day and he was tired and just wanted to go home.

Marinette wrapped her arms around him. “It’s not stupid,” she told him, rubbing circles on his back. “I’d give anything for something normal, too.” She didn’t say anything else. There wasn’t really any way to comfort Adrien, not when she had similar fears. He buried his face in her neck and they stood there for a few long minutes before he finally pulled away.

“So,” he said, flashing a grin. “What do you say we order some room service and find a movie? Slumber party part two?”

 

Adrien lay awake in the dark, eyes tracing patterns on the ceiling. Marinette had moved to her own bed on the other side of the room, curled up under the covers.

What were they going to do? They couldn’t live off their compensation for ever, hiding out in hotel rooms. That wasn’t a proper way to live your life. If the hibernation didn’t end soon, they wouldn’t be able to graduate. They’d never be able to get real jobs or have actual lives.

They’d be stuck, living in the shadows, watching from the sidelines.

And what about when Hawkmoth was defeated, when Paris didn’t need its heroes anymore? What would they do when they weren’t being compensated because there was nothing to be compensated for? What happened when they ran out of money?

They needed a better plan, Adrien decided. Marinette was right in setting a time limit of a week. He knew they’d have to go back to Master Fu, get some insight on what was going on with them. Was it bad that he wanted to push that back as far as possible?

His thoughts were interrupted as his cat ears twisted towards a sniffle, and he froze. Sure enough, another came a moment later.

“Marinette?” he called, sitting up. He could see her through the dark with his night vision as she tensed. “Mari, are you okay?”

She sniffed again, pulling herself up and pressing her face against her knees. “No,” she whispered. “What if—Adrien, what if this takes years? What if the hibernation lasts so long that everyone’s decided we must be dead? What if when we can finally be ourselves again, we can’t go back? Because it would hurt everyone more for us to just show up instead of staying dead?” She paused to sniffle once more, her voice becoming even quieter. “What if we never get to see our families and friends again?”

Adrien pushed off his bed, crossing the space to his partner’s. He sunk down beside her and wrapped her in his arms.

“It’s not going to come to that,” he promised. “We’ll figure something out.”

Marinette nodded, her knees straightening out as she hugged him back, burying her tears against his neck. “They must be so worried about us.”

She pulled back, running a finger along the edge of his mask. His glowing eyes were the only things she could see in the dark. “You don’t have to be strong,” she told him. “I know your dad has…whatever he has against emotions, but it’s okay to cry if you need to. I’m here, Adrien.”

Her words were the only thing it took to break down the walls he’d constructed since last night, letting loose the flood of tears he’d held back. He sobbed against her, and her own tears returned in full force again as they clung to each other. They were the only thing from their lives they still had. Their partner. Their classmate. Their friend. Everything else was gone indefinitely, but they’d still have each other. No matter what.

Neither knew how much time had passed before they ran out of tears, breathing shakily as they loosened their grips.

“Kitty,” Marinette whispered, avoiding his gaze. “Could you—would you mind sleeping with me again? I don’t want to be alone.”

Adrien nodded. “Of course, my Lady.”

Marinette pulled him down and they burrowed under the covers, curling up together for comfort.

Whatever happened, they’d face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Let me know what you think!  
> Comments are life and asks are golden!  
> Hit me up on Tumblr at probably-voldemort


	3. The Delicates Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two of Marinette and Adrien's Disappearance:
> 
> Marinette and Adrien ignore their feelings by going shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this taking so long. Uni got overwhelming and I need more than five minutes at a time to write this, and I really didn't have that time. But I am on summer vacation now, and besides work and helping out around the house and stuff, I'll have a lot of time to write.
> 
> Currently my plan is to have this written up to at least the chapter where they come to class in costume by the end of the summer. My completely-not-set-in-stone schedule currently has that chapter pinned at coming out around the end of June, but I'm already behind schedule, so don't quote me on that. The next chapter will be coming out as soon as I've finished writing the entirety of Not Ready, so you can also look for that announcement to know when this will be updated next.
> 
> NOTE: In this chapter, a Carrefour is involved. From my adventures in Googling, it appears to be the French version of Walmart. As I have never been to France or a Carrefour, it will be based off the Walmart near where I live. Any inaccuracies of a Carrefour are entirely my fault, but it really doesn't matter too much because any differences won't really affect this chapter.
> 
> I think that's about it for now. Sorry again for the wait, and I hope you have fun reading! :D

Marinette woke grudgingly, warm and cozy and—she squinted her eyes open barely enough to register her hand on the pillow near her face—still covered in spots.  Something heavy and warm was holding her captive, and she sighed as her eyes fell shut once more, burrowing back into the warm thing.

The warm thing let out a soft groan, and the heavy thing tightened around her, and she remembered vaguely that the most likely thing for it to be was Adrien Chat Noir Agreste.  Somehow, she was okay with that and completely not freaking out.  Granted, she was still half asleep, so that likely had a lot to do with the lack of freaking out.

As it was, she just curled back into Adrien or Chat or whoever, hoping for sleep to overtake her once more.

“Morning, my Lady.”

His words were a whisper, his voice deep with sleep and his lips ghosting over the back of her neck.  She shivered involuntarily, ridiculously aware of the way he nuzzled his nose into her hair.

“It’s not morning yet,” she whispered back, now awake enough for the freaking out to slightly make itself known but not awake enough that it would prevent her from falling back to sleep if given the chance.  “Since we don’t have to go to school today, we have to sleep in.”

“Sleep in?” he repeated, and he really had to move his face away because if every word kept coming with accidental kisses, she was legit going to die.  “To, like, eight thirty?”

What.

Marinette swirled in his grasp to face him, pretending that the way his legs automatically moved to rectangle themselves with hers wasn’t doing things to her insides, and squinted incredulously at him.

“Eight thirty is not sleeping in,” she pointed out, amazed that someone could think that such an ungodly early time counted as “sleeping in”.  She closed her eyes again, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling closer.  “We’re sleeping until eleven, at least.  Until this whole hibernation thing is over, preferably.”

She felt him swallow heavily, which was kind of weird, and his arms tightened around her.  “Sounds good.”

Marinette nodded against him, and it wasn’t long before she was drifting off again.

 

The second time Marinette woke up, she wasn’t wrapped up in Adrien.  Which was kind of disappointing, if she was being entirely honest.  But then something ran through her hair, and she realized that her pillow was more likely Adrien’s thigh, and she decided that she didn’t have to be honest with herself.  Because being honest was going to take her down roads she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to go down just yet.

She stretched out, arms squeezing what was probably Adrien’s stomach tightly for a moment, before she released him and rolled onto her back, peeling open her eyes and smiling sleepily up at him.

“Morning, Kitty.”

Adrien chuckled lightly, sliding down from where he’d been sitting until he was lying beside her again.  “It’s allowed to be morning now?  It’s only ten forty five.”

Marinette shrugged.  “It’s close enough,” she assured him.  “Better than whatever time we woke up before.”

Adrien grinned at her, shaking his head.  “Well, apparently I physically can’t sleep past nine,” he informed her, and Marinette’s face twisted in sympathy.

“Poor chaton,” she cooed, running a hand through his hair.  “How have you survived this long?”

“It’s not that bad.”  Adrien’s eyes fell shut as he pressed his head into her fingers.  “There’s a Spider-Man marathon on.  I mean, I had to watch it with subtitles so I wouldn’t wake you up but—”

“I love Spider-Man!” Marinette cut him off, her fingers falling out of his hair.  In her haste to sit up and confirm that, yup, that was definitely Spiderman swinging through the streets of New York City, she missed Adrien’s pout at the loss of contact.  “Garfield or Maguire?”

“Garfield.” 

“Cool.”  Marinette nodded, curling back into Adrien’s side as he rose up to lean against the headboard.  He fished around for the remote in the blankets and dialing up the volume.

They watched in silence for a while, and Marinette repressed a shiver as Adrien’s claws began to trace a path up and down the inside of her arm.  She wasn’t going to think about it, though, because thinking meant admitting things, and admitting things wasn’t allowed when they’d had to abandon their entire lives the day before.  Nope.  She was just cuddling Adrien Agreste who was also Chat Noir in bed and it was feeling very r—nope.  Not going to say that r-word.  Not today, Satan.

“Spider-Man’s hot,” she blurted, attempting to derail that train of thought and immediately turning red.  Why was that where she went?  Sure, Peter Parker was right there on the flat screen TV looking unfairly attractive despite having just been on a high speed chase.  Very unrealistic in Marinette’s experience.  Sure, Adrien would probably look flawless after going through a blender and then being dunked in a toilet full of piranhas, but normal people had to actually try to look half decent after fighting a supervillain.

“Even hotter than me?”  She didn’t have to look at Adrien to see the smirk on his face.  “Because we both know you think I’m pretty hot.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder.  “Don’t worry, kitty,” she assured him, her face lighting up even more.  “You’re the prettiest superhero in all of real life and comic book life.”

She still wasn’t looking at Adrien, so she missed the way his own face began to rival hers in colour.

“I appreciate the compliment,” he said, eyes fixed on the TV and not on the girl wrapped in his arm, “but you’re wrong.”  She hummed in question, and he swallowed heavily.  “The prettiest superhero in all of real life and comic book life is actually the one and only Ladybug.  I am, however, a close second, so I can see where you’d get confused.”

Marinette’s face burned, and Adrien mentally kicked himself.  Why had he added that?  When was narcissism ever appreciated?  Being Chat all the time was messing with his head.

But Marinette bit her lip, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye and offering him a shy smile.  “Thanks,” she said, her voice quiet, before turning back to the TV and scooting minutely closer.

They settled back into watching the movie, a slightly awkward tension hanging in the air that they both steadfastly refused to acknowledge.  If Marinette’s lips unconsciously brushed against Adrien’s neck, it could be written off as an accident, an unavoidable hazard of leaning one’s head on another’s shoulder.  If Adrien’s arm pulled Marinette closer and closer until she may as well have been sitting in his lap, well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t spent the night platonically wrapped around each other.  If Marinette’s hands somehow managed to find Adrien’s free one and tangle their fingers together, it was only because her hands felt awkward just sitting in her lap doing nothing.  And if Adrien’s tail had twisted itself around Marinette’s leg, he still hadn’t actually managed to figure out how to control his extra appendage yet, so you really couldn’t blame him.

It was all completely entirely platonic, just two best friends watching Spider-Man together.  Nothing special to see here.  Nope.  Absolutely no feelings being brushed away and buried in deep corners of their minds.  Anyone who suggested anything more might be going on would clearly be losing their mind and be advised to seek help.

Their little vacation at an Egyptian river would have continued longer if Marinette’s stomach hadn’t rumbled loudly, reminding them both that they hadn’t actually eaten anything since the room serviced desserts they’d ordered the night before.

“We should probably get breakfast,” Marinette pointed out, and Adrien wholeheartedly agreed.

He extracted himself from beside-slash-under her, rolling off the bed.  “You wanna order something while I have a shower?”

“Sure.”  Marinette grinned at him, before rolling onto her belly and pulling the room service menu off the bedside table.  “You’re only lactose intolerant, right?  No other allergies?”

“Not for food,” he confirmed, pushing open the door to the bathroom.  “Unless you’re ordering, like, a whole unplucked chicken.  Then I’d be allergic to it.”

“Darn it, Adrien.  There goes my daily breakfast of an entire ostrich.”

 

Adrien stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection for the first time since the hibernation began.  This was what he’d look like from now on.  Inhuman cat eyes rimmed in black.  The ears that he could move if he concentrated hard enough.  The tail that he still hadn’t figured out how to control.

He bared his teeth, studying his now-permanent fangs.  They were probably the worst part, if he was being honest.  Besides the whole not-being-able-to-transform-back-and-go-home part.  Night vision was definitely great, as were the enhanced senses and reflexes, but somehow in the four years he’d been Chat Noir, he still hadn’t gotten used to having the fangs in his mouth.  Marinette had spent their breakfast—and lunch and dinner—the day before giggling half-hysterically at his mangled attempts at eating.  He’d probably ended up biting his lips more than the actual food.  Thank the gods for enhanced healing, because fangs were ridiculous and completely useless for eating in a dignified manner.

None of that took into account the dozens of times he’d accidentally stabbed one through his lip over the years.  That was actually what had woken him up the second time that morning, and he could honestly say that biting through your own lip was a horrible way to wake up.  He immensely preferred the elbow to the stomach from Marinette that had woken him up the first time.

(Though, if he was being completely truthful here, which he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to be just yet, waking up with Marinette in his arms had more than made up for both the painful awakenings.)

He closed his lips with a sigh, turning to the shower and lowering the zipper on his suit.  It stopped just above his waist, which, technically, he already knew, but somehow it seemed he’d forgotten.  And this was a problem.  How could he shower if his zipper didn’t go far enough to strip?

He frowned, reaching out to take a mini shampoo bottle in his hands, and his eyes lit on his fingers.  He raised his free hand in front of his face, inspecting his claws as a plan formed in his mind.  This just might work.

 

Marinette thanked the waitress one last time and closed the door behind her, the false smile finally falling from her face.  Why did everyone expect Ladybug to be happy all the time?  It was exhausting, honestly.

She turned back to the room, surveying the food piled on the table, debating whether to wait for Adrien or not.  The shower clicked off, and she flopped back onto the bed, opting to keep watching Spider-Man as she waited a few minutes.

More than a few minutes later, almost long enough for Marinette to just say “Screw it” and start eating on her own, the door finally clicked open, just as Spider-Man was confronting the Lizard in the sewers.

“Marinette, I think I made a mistake.”

It was the worry in Adrien’s tone that made her turn from the epic battle on the television, and her eyes widened at the sight that greeted her in the bathroom doorway.  Her face burst into flames, and she let out a squeal of surprise.

“Wh-why are you na-naked?” she squeaked, unable to control neither her voice nor her eyes, which currently followed the droplets of water rolling over Adrien’s unfairly chiseled abs completely without her permission.

Adrien blinked at her in confusion for a moment.  “I’m not naked!” He gestured at himself with the hand that wasn’t holding towel around his waist, the only thing he was wearing save for his mask, cat ears, and his right glove.  “Why are you stuttering?”

“B-bec-cause you’re h-hot!” Marinette let out a groan, rolling over to bury her face in the pillows so she could die in peace.  Why was he shirtless?  What was the point of that?  Why was he doing his to her?  “And-and you’re nak-naked!”

“I’m not naked!” Adrien insisted.  “I have a towel!”

“Why?” Marinette asked again, refusing to lift her face and embarrass herself further.  “Wh-where are y-your clo-othes?”

“Right.”  Adrien’s free hand went to scratch at the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh.  If Marinette had been looking at him, she would have seen that he was just as flushed as she was.  “That’s kind of the mistake I wanted to talk about?  So the costumes don’t come off, right?  And it’s kinda difficult to have a shower while fully clothed.  So I kind of might have shredded my costume?”

Embarrassment be damned, Marinette sat back up, staring at Adrien in confusion, half her brainpower going into keeping her eyes trained on his face.  “What?”

He offered her a self-deprecating smile, waggling the claws on his free hand in front of his face.  “Apparently my claws can cut through the suits,” he explained.  “So mine is currently in a ridiculous amount of pieces on the bathroom floor because I did not think this through.”

Marinette stared at him for a moment longer before bursting into laughter.  Because, really, Adrien’s situation was actually hilarious when she wasn’t focusing on his nakedness.  Adrien joined in with a few chuckles after a bit, and he was eternally grateful that Chloe didn’t use her master key card to join Ladybug and Chat Noir for breakfast because he was pretty sure that any explanation they gave for why he was mostly naked and why they were laughing their heads off wasn’t going to satisfy anyone.

Eventually, Marinette’s giggles died down and she lazily tossed her yo-yo in the air with a cry for Lucky Charm.  A strip of fabric landed in her hand and Adrien glanced quizzically over.

“What’s that for?”

Marinette held up the fabric, which, upon closer inspection, was actually a blindfold.  “Clearly it’s to protect my innocence from…that.”  She gestured at his entire body with one hand, traitorous eyes trailing further down than his neck.  She snapped them back to his face, only to see the smirk that clearly meant he’d caught her.  If there was any doubt, it was erased by the waggle of his eyebrows.

“The suits always repair themselves after the Cure, right?” She raised her own eyebrow at Adrien, refusing to show embarrassment at any other point today.  “There’s no reason it shouldn’t fix it now.”

And, with that, she tossed the blindfold in the air, calling out the magic words, and the ladybugs flew through the room.

Sure enough, when they cleared, Adrien was back in costume, hair dried and restyled and towel still wrapped around his waist.

“You look ridiculous,” Marinette told him, ignoring the tiny voice in her head that wished it hadn’t worked.  That was a bad voice and it was going on a time out because she did not want to deal with it.

Adrien struck a pose, leaning against the door jam.  “So you don’t think I should make it a permanent part of my suit?”  He kicked a leg up against the opposite side, towel flaring dramatically around his knees.

“Please do.”  Marinette snorted, pretending she didn’t notice the redness still flooding her cheeks.  She pushed off the bed and collapsed into a chair, pulling the covering off a platter.  “I think I’ll wait till later for my shower.  Food?”

Adrien nodded, shedding the towel and taking the other seat.  “How are you gonna shower?” he asked, before stuffing three entire waffles in his mouth.  Marinette raised a questioning eyebrow, and Adrien swallowed several times before continuing.  “I mean, showering in the suits doesn’t really work, and I’m the only one who has claws so....”

He trailed off, staring at his claws as the pieces clicked together simultaneously for them both.

Marinette needed to get out of her suit to shower.

Marinette didn’t have any way to get out of her suit, not even a zipper.

Only things made by Miraculouses—ie claws, akuma weapons, or other parts of suits—could break the suits.

Marinette didn’t have claws.

Adrien had claws.

So that meant for Marinette to shower, Adrien would have to—

“Try a strawberry!”  Marinette shoved the bowl under Adrien’s nose.  Was her voice higher than normal?  Nah.  Definitely her imagination.  “They’re really good!”

Adrien nodded quickly, emptying the entire bowl into his mouth.  Marinette echoed his genius move with all six bananas, and gave him a brief closed-mouth smile so he’d know things weren’t awkward.  Definitely not awkward.  Not at all.  Not even a little bit.  Nope.  She couldn’t look at him because she was choking on banana.  It absolutely was not because she was struggling to push away the visions of him clawing her out of her suit.  Why would she ever think that?  That wouldn’t make any sense.  Wasn’t that part of her brain supposed to be on a time out?

Adrien recovered first, dumping an unnecessary amount of syrup on his waffles.  “So, uh, since the Cure fixes our suits, maybe this is a solution?”  It seemed Adrien was doing better at not thinking about things they shouldn’t be thinking about, though he still refused to look at Marinette and his face was at least as red as hers, so, maybe not.

“What do you mean?” Marinette was still avoiding his eyes, trying to determine whether there were any cantaloupe pieces in the bland, grey bowl of fruit.  “Hey, are any of these cantaloupe?”

“Yeah, like half of them,” Adrien confirmed, and Marinette shoved the bowl away.  “Why?”

“I’m allergic.”

“No, I knew that.”  Adrien pulled the bowl to himself, dumping the entire contents on his plate.  “How couldn’t you tell?”

Marinette hummed, stealing the bacon.  “Ladybugs can’t see colour.”

Adrien choked, pounding on his chest until something that might have been waffle came back up.  “Wait.  You’re saying you’re _colour-blind?_ ”  Marinette nodded, and Adrien’s eyes widened further.  “Like all this time Ladybug has been colour-blind?”

“Yeah.”  She shrugged.  “I mean, I can see red, when I make a Lucky Charm, but that’s it.”

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair with a grin.  “Holy shit.”

Marinette let out a puff of air, offering him an awkward smile.  “What?”

“You’re amazing.”

She glanced away, feeling her face heat back up.  “You said something about a solution?”

“Right!” Adrien leaned forward again, clapping his hands.  “So we can take the suits off.  That means we can at least live semi-normal lives, right?  I mean, as long as we keep on, like, really big sunglasses, and I wear a hat and something to cover my glove.  But this means we could go out in public and not be Ladybug and Chat Noir.”  He smiled sadly at her.  “We can’t go home or anything, but at least it’s something.”

Marinette smiled back.  It was something, even if it wouldn’t fix all their problems.  She would kill to be able to feel anything on her skin.  Speaking of…

“What would we wear, though?” she pointed out.  “It’s not like we can just walk around in towels.  I think that might draw even more attention to ourselves than just wearing the suits.”

Adrien nodded slowly.  “I’d suggest getting my tailor on the line,” he said, “but that might be a little suspicious.”

“Little bit,” Marinette agreed, stabbing a pancake.  “I think we need to take a little trip to Carrefour after breakfast.”

Adrien cocked his head.  “Carrefour?” he repeated.  “How can a crossroads help us?”

“Not a crossroads.”  Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Carrefour.  The hypermarket.”  Adrien stared at her blankly.  “A department store?”

Adrien was now staring at her like she’d just told him she personally knew Père Nöel and la Petite Souris and had invited them to a tea party with him. 

“Those are real?”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, pancake falling out onto her plate.

 

“Welcome to Carrefour!”

Marinette swung her arms wide, the automatic doors sliding open behind her.  She stepped backwards into the store, Adrien following with wide eyes.

“Over in that direction, we have everything from pet supplies to shampoo to children’s toys.”  She waved an arm to the right, the gesture more pointing out the people staring at them than the items she listened.  “And in this direction is groceries, clothing, and electronics.  Carrefour has everything you could think to need.  I mean, obviously it’s better to go to local places, but if you need fast, and you need everything in one place, then Carrefour’s the place for you.”  She finished her speech with a grin, hands planted on her hips.  “So?  What do you think?”

He glanced around, taking in the rows and rows of cheap candies, the massive tower of toilet paper, and the middle aged ladies arguing with an employee about sale prices.

It was chaos.  It was absurd.

It was _amazing_.

“I love it,” he whispered, voice awed, and Marinette let out a laugh.

“Alright, Kitty.”  She turned, stepping over and grabbing something big and metal.

“Is that a shopping cart?”  Adrien’s grin was giddy as he rounded the bucket on wheels.  “I thought these were just a myth!”

Marinette shook her head.  “You’re unbelievable,” she told him, but she was laughing so Adrien figured she didn’t actually mean it.

He took a step back, bouncing on his toes, eyes flicking between her face and the cart.  “Can I ride in it?”

 

“Monsieur?  Can I go to the bathroom?”

Alya and Nino held their breath as M. Bordeaux studied them for a few moments.  “Do you actually need to go to the restroom this time, Alya, or are you going to try to sneak out again?”

Nino resisted the urge to turn around, and Alya hoped her fake smile looked reassuring enough.  “I actually need to use the bathroom?”

M. Bordeaux stared at them a moment longer before sighing. “Rose will accompany you, then, to ensure you don’t accidentally leave the school again.”

Alya sighed heavily, sinking low in her desk.  “I don’t actually need to go,” she conceded, burying her face in her arms.  Rose patted her back from behind in sympathy.

Her father had given her the option of staying home that morning and Alya had almost taken it.  But apparently “staying home” meant “staying under house arrest” because there was no way her father would let her leave the house.  Apparently Marinette and Adrien going missing from their bedrooms had made her parents irrationally paranoid, and they weren’t going to risk anything happening to her.

So she’d opted for school.  Because there she at least had a chance of sneaking out to go look for Marinette and Adrien, which would be the best use of her time.

But she hadn’t counted on her father walking her to school and depositing her in her classroom and not leaving until the bell rang and she was trapped.  She hadn’t counted on the teachers and principal enforcing a strict policy to keep anyone from ditching class and risking their safety to try and find Marinette and Adrien.

Which is why she was here, wasting valuable time stuck in a review for the maths final, rather than looking for her friends.

Nino was just as desperate to get out as she was, but his mother had put his little brother on tattle tale duty to make sure he made it to school, and together they were the prime targets of the No Escape policy, and they had scarcely been let out of a teacher’s sight since classes had started.

It was stupid.  This entire thing was stupid.  It wasn’t like she was actually learning anything here, other than the fact that maths wouldn’t help them escape.  They might as well let them leave.  At least then they’d actually be _doing something_ instead of just sitting around learning fucking maths when god only knew what was happening to Marinette and Adrien.

She let out a loud groan, and Nino clutched her hand under the desk.

Stupid.

It was a while later, just as she was weighing the pros and cons of causing an akuma to aid in their escape, when a Ladyblog alert went off on her phone.

Maybe Hawkmoth had read her mind.  Maybe she wouldn’t have to cause an akuma because there was already one on its way.  Maybe this was the break they were waiting for.

She raised her head, glancing quickly at M. Bordeaux.  They’d moved into working quietly on their own at some point, and the teacher was tapping away at his laptop, eyes glancing towards Alya and Nino every few seconds.  She pulled out her phone, both she and Nino sinking lower in their desk as she brought up the submitted post.

It wasn’t an akuma, and she chose not to acknowledge the slight disappointment she felt at that.

It was a video, shot from a cell phone, of Ladybug pushing Chat Noir around in a shopping cart.  Alya felt a small smile sneak onto her face as she watched them zoom down aisles for a few minutes, until Ladybug took a corner too sharp and sent the cart tipping over and knocking down a tower made from boxes of crackers.

As she listened to Ladybug and Chat Noir repeatedly apologize to an employee, she scrolled down, reading the caption: _Ladybug and Chat Noir are at the Paris Carrefour Hypermarket!_

Nino elbowed her in the side, pausing the video.  “We know where they are,” he pointed out, voice hushed.  “If we can get to them, maybe we can convince them to make looking for Adrien and Marinette their top priority.”

The smile Alya sent him was full of hope as she darted up to press a kiss to his cheek.  “That’s brilliant, Nino,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.  “But Bordeaux won’t even let me go to the bathroom.  How are we going to get out?”

“Like this.” 

Nino stuffed what he’d bothered to take out back into his bag, Alya quickly following his lead.  He then stood up, pulling her down towards the front of the classroom.

  1. Bordeaux sighed, standing up from his desk. “Nino, Alya, as class isn’t over, I’ll have to ask you to return to your seats.”



They stopped in the doorway, but didn’t make any move to sit back down.

“Our friends our missing,” Nino told the teacher, narrowing his eyes.  “Ladybug and Chat Noir are at the Carrefour right now.  We’re going to make sure they’re looking for them.”

Chloe scoffed loudly.  “Puh-lease,” she said, waving a dismissive hand.  “I already convinced them to look for Adrikins last night.  Since Ladybug and I are best friends, she’ll do anything I ask her to.”

Alya resisted full on snarling at the girl.  “Well, clearly they didn’t listen, since right now they’re having shopping cart races in a grocery store.”  She waved her phone to underline her point and turned back to M. Bordeaux.  “We’re leaving, and you can’t stop us.”

 

**Day Two:**

  * **Buy clothes**
  * **FOOD!!! >^u^<**
  * **Shampoo, conditioner, make up…**
  * **Make a separate shopping list because it’s taking up too much room**
  * **Punch Hawkmoth in the face >^u^<   >^u^<**
  * **~~Get a puppy >^u^<    >^u^<~~**     **no.** ~~~~
  * **Don’t think about our friends and families**
  * **Take Chat’s department store virginity >^u^<**
  * **~~Get TWO puppies >^u^<    >^u^<    >^u^<~~    NO!**
  * **Get Chat to stop drawing cat faces on everything >^u^<    >^u^<    >^u^<**
  * **> ^u^< >^u^<    >^u^<    >^u^<    >^u^<**



 

They turned the cart into the next aisle and let out a sigh of relief at finding it blissfully empty.  Who would have thought that shopping in one’s supersuit would make everyone want an autograph or a picture?  In hindsight, it was a pretty obvious conclusion, and they probably should have expected it.

They’d been shopping for a little over an hour and had the toiletries covered—Adrien had sheepishly admitted that he’d used all four tiny shampoo bottles that morning and three of the conditioners—and had moved onto clothing.

“What do you think?”

Marinette turned, bursting into giggles at Adrien’s chosen outfit of plaid pants, an oversized pizza patterned shirt, and rainbow-striped suspenders.

“I think you could be a model, Kitty,” she told him.  She noticed a group of girls crouched behind a display, not-so-discretely snapping pictures of the heroes.  Adrien struck a few more poses—whether he was conscious of his audience, Marinette wasn’t sure, since he seemed to always be posing anyway—before shucking his chosen clothes and surveying the cart.

“I think this is enough,” he decided, tallying up his purchases.  Shirts?  Check.  Pants?  Check.  Ear-covering hats?  Check.  Ridiculously large gloves?  Check.  He turned back to Marinette with a grin.  “Your turn!”

He took control of the shopping cart, all but sprinting through the store to the women’s clothing section, Marinette hurrying along behind him.

Picking out clothing for her went about as well as it did for Adrien, in that they found a lot of cheap, relatively okay looking clothes that would fit her sans suit.

All in all, it was looking to be a pretty successful shopping trip.

General clothing finished, it was time to find the items that Marinette had been avoiding.  The clothing items she had purposefully strode past a half dozen times.  The clothing items she had explicitly ignored until she couldn’t anymore. 

The clothing items that Adrien was being overly helpful in trying to pick out, scouring the shelves with far too much enthusiasm.

“What about these?”  He dangled a set in front of her face, and Marinette blinked at them for a few moments before turning bright red at the realization of what exactly he was holding.

“What the hell, Chat?  Give me those before someone sees you,” she snapped, snatching them from his hand and clutching them to her chest.  Her eyes darted around to make sure none of the people who had been not-so-subtly following them around the store were paying too close attention.

Adrien smirked, leaning against the shelf.  “Don’t get too purr-tective there, my Lady,” he purred.  “Someone might think you’re embarr-hissed.  They’re cute.  You should get them.”

Marinette spluttered incoherently for a few moments.  “I-I-I’m not wearing you-themed lingerie, Chat!” she finally managed, though it was louder than she intended.  She ducked behind the shelf, pulling a laughing Adrien down with her.

“There was you-themed ones too, Bugaboo,” he informed her.  “I could go back and get those if you’d purr-fur that.”

She scowled at him, ignoring the way her face was burning.  “Go do something else while I pick out underwear,” she told him.  “I really don’t need or want your help in this.”

“But you got to see my underwear,” Adrien argued.

“Because you found ones with puns and were so excited you shoved them in my face,” she reminded him, and Adrien shrugged.  “Please go somewhere else.  You don’t need to know what my underwear looks like.”

Adrien pouted as he pulled them back up from their crouch.  “But what if I _want_ to know what your underwear looks like?”

“Then you’ll have to buy me dinner first,” Marinette muttered, flushing darkly as soon as she registered what she’d said. 

Where did that come from?  And how was she able to deliver it so flawlessly with her red face the only indication she was still freaking out about all of this?  She didn’t know, and, honestly, it really didn’t matter if it got Adrien as flustered as he was. 

His face was at the very least rivaling hers in colour, and he looked like a fish with his mouth opening and closing the way it was, no sound making itself known. 

She shoved the offending underwear out of her arms and back onto a random shelf, and made a shooing motion at her partner.  “Leave.”

Adrien scampered away without any more complaints.

Marinette sighed, closing her eyes, running a hand across her face, and resolutely Not Thinking about anything that just happened.  Because what just happened was definitely on her list of things to Not Think about.

The conversation boxed up and stowed away for an undisclosed later date, she opened her eyes and quickly made her way through the underwear section, not putting much more thought into her choices besides them being relatively cute and her size.

Underwear chosen and hidden beneath their clothes—it wasn’t so much that she overly cared if Adrien happened to see what her underwear looked like so much as she would rather the chances of pictures of Ladybug shopping for underwear showing up all over the internet to be as low as possible—she steered the cart out of the aisle, setting off to find where her cat went.

 

Where he went was, apparently, the toy section, if the gaggle of children engaged in a lightsaber battle with a superhero was any indication.

“You’ll never take me alive, Batgirl!” Adrien cried, dodging a hit from a tiny girl in a pink sparkly dress and a Batman mask.  The girl giggled, not minding that she’d missed her target too much, and rounding again for a sneak attack with the help of Donatello.

Marinette smiled as the two girls stabbed him in the butt with their lightsabers, leaning on the handle of the cart, and let out a laugh at Adrien’s overdramatic injury.

“I’ve been hit!” he cried, sinking to his knees, his own still-boxed lightsaber crashing to the ground.  “Iron Man, Darth Vader, you have to help me!”

The girl and boy, Darth Vader and Iron Man, respectively, jumped protectively in front of him, brandishing their packaged weapons before engaging in battle with Batgirl and Donatello.  Marinette laughed again, catching the attention of not only the parents of the children—most of whom were videotaping the scene so they’d forever have evidence that their child got a playdate in the Carrefour with Chat Noir—but her partner in crime himself.

“My Lady!” Adrien cried out, hands clutching his chest as his teammates unintentionally left him open to the attack of a barely-old-enough-to-toddle Mr. Incredible, who stabbed him coldly in the heart with a stuffed bear.  “I’m not going to last much longer!  Everything is going dark!  Please, Bugaboo.  You have to avenge me!”  He tossed her his lightsaber, sliding closer to the ground as she caught it.  “I feel cold.  There’s a light.  Please.”  He grabbed Donatello’s hand, as the children had stopped their fight to watch Chat Noir die.  “Tell Ladybug I love her.”

And, with that, he finally collapsed, lifeless in the middle of the Carrefour toy section.  Mr. Incredible started to cry.

Marinette rolled her eyes at Chat’s dramatics, but wielded her lightsaber, jumping past the parents.

“You dare to kill my kitty?” she asked, sparing a glance at the less-dead-looking Adrien, who had sat up to comfort Mr. Incredible, before turning her gaze on the others.  “I guess you forgot you’d be dealing with me.”

The children squealed in delight, before coming at her with their swords drawn.  It was a four-on-one battle, as Chat’s allies had switched sides, and Ladybug was backed up against a display of Barbie dolls.

“Chat,” she called, fending of a double blow from Darth Vader and Batgirl.  “A little help would be nice.”

“Can’t.”  Adrien smirked at her between his harrowing task of making faces at the now giggling Mr. Incredible.  “I’m dead.”

Marinette rolled her eyes again, her momentary distraction at how cute Adrien looked cuddling the toddler—which she was Not Thinking about, thank you very much—causing her to miss an incoming blow from Iron Man.  She collapsed to her knees, gripping her stomach.

“No!” she cried.  “I can’t die, too!  Who’ll defeat Hawkmoth if Chat and I are both dead?”

There was a beat of silence before four lightsabers crashed to the ground, their previous wielders jumping up and down with a chorus of “Me!”s and “I’ll do it!”s.

Marinette laughed, ruffling Donatello’s hair as she stood back up.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, grinning at the kids.  “Chat and I should probably get back to grocery shopping, though.”

There were groans from the kids, and most of the parents put down their phones, the show over.

“But I think we have time for some pictures,” she offered, and faces lit up once more.

 

“Why do we even need to buy food?”

Adrien was in control of the cart now, which was more difficult than he’d initially thought.  The wheels weren’t quite lined up right, so, if he wasn’t careful, it would drift to the right so much that it would crash into the shelves.  It had only happened three times since they’d left the toy section, but he thought he might be finally getting the hang of it.

Marinette snorted.  “Because we need food to survive?”

Adrien hummed, jumping up onto the front of the cart and gliding along.  “But we can just get room service,” he pointed out, jumping off just in time to avoid crashing into another display.  Stupid, unaligned wheels.

“Which is ridiculously overpriced,” Marinette countered, directing them to the left and supposedly towards the food.  Why was this place so big?  Someone could easily get lost in here.  She glanced up at him, eyebrow raised.  “You have noticed that, right?”

Adrien blinked at her, trying to remember if he’d ever even looked at the prices of room service in Chloe’s hotel and whether they were overpriced or not.  “Umm...”

Marinette rolled her eyes, directing them down an aisle which, low and behold, contained some sort of wall-sized-fridge-shelf thing.  Apparently Marinette knew her way around.  Adrien was impressed.  He was sure they’d just been in the book section, and now there was food.  It was like magic.

Marinette leaned over, pulling something off the cold-shelf-thing and showing it to him.  “How much do you think this costs?”

“I dunno.”  Adrien studied the item for far longer than was probably necessary, if Marinette’s smirk was anything to go off of—and she was blocking the price tags on the shelf so he couldn’t even cheat.  He shrugged, giving up.  “Twenty euros?”

Marinette’s smirk turned incredulous as she stared at him.  “Are you serious?” she asked, and he shrugged again.  “It’s a litre of milk, Chat.”

Was he too low?  “Thirty euros?”

“One thirty.”  Oh.  Too high, then.  Marinette rolled her eyes, sticking the jug into the cart.  “God, you’re such a rich kid.  How did I not know this?”

Adrien shrugged, sniffing deeply as something caught his attention.  “Technically you did know that,” he pointed out, but his heart wasn’t really in the discussion, the smell was too alluring.

He let go of the cart, ignoring Marinette’s confused calls as he made his way further down the aisle, the smell only growing stronger and even more all-consuming.  It was taking over his senses.  What could be there that was so demanding of his attention in the middle of the dairy aisle, and why had he never eaten it before?

He found the source of the smell after what seemed like a small eternity, and didn’t waste the time it would have taken to figure out what it was before he was tearing open the packaging and stuffing himself.

 _God_ , this was _amazing_.  Who knew that heaven was in the middle of the grocery store?  He reached for another package, claws ripping at the paper.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, snapping him out of the bliss of his second treat.  He turned, ears folding against his head and tail drooping at the look Marinette was giving him.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, stooping to snatch the packages off the floor.  “I know you’ve never been grocery shopping, but you can’t just eat things without paying for them.”

Adrien offered her a sheepish smile, the smell still delicious but less overpowering now that he’d eaten some. 

“I don’t know what that was,” he admitted.  “The smell was just there and I just had to eat it.”

“What was it, anyway?” Marinette wondered, and Adrien leaned in closer to read the shredded package.  “Camembert?”  Her gaze snapped up to him.  “Chat, you’re lactose intolerant.  What the hell were you thinking?”

A rock sunk to the pit of his stomach at the discovery of what he’d eaten, tail slashing as he hissed at nothing.

“Fucking Plagg,” he muttered, glaring at his ring.  “I thought I could stop with the stupid Camembert, but apparently you’re going to dictate my eating now?”

Marinette was staring at him in confusion.  “What does your kwami have to do with you poisoning yourself?”

Adrien rolled his eyes, taking the packaging from her and stuffing it in the cart.  “Plagg eats camembert,” he told her.  “Do you know how difficult it is for a lactose intolerant kid to find an endless supply of stinky cheese?  Stupidly hard.  And now, apparently, he’s making me like the disgusting thing.  Probably needs it for his stupid hibernation or something.”  He scowled at the display before reluctantly throwing a ton of wheels into the cart.  If Plagg could go through eight wheels a day being as tiny as he was, how many was Adrien going to need?  “I bet your kwami likes chocolate or strawberries or something that’s not disgusting and actually agrees with your gut.”

He could tell Marinette was resisting the urge to laugh, and he appreciated the effort.

“Cookies,” she admitted.  He scowled at her in jealously, and she allowed a few giggles to escape, patting him on the head.  “It’s not _that_ bad, Chaton.  I can make some really good pastries with Camembert, so we can make it less gross for you.”  She paused for a moment, turning to stare very seriously at him.  “But if Plagg is making you eat this without taking away your lactose intolerance, you’ll be getting your own hotel room.”

Adrien had to agree with that sentiment—he wouldn’t want to live with himself either if he was being forced to eat a ton of cheese with his normal gut—but still spent the rest of their grocery shopping glaring at the white wheels in their cart as Marinette picked out the rest of their food.

Why did it have to be camembert?  Why couldn’t he have a kwami that needed cookies like Marinette?  Because that’s what this was about, right?  Camembert had never smelled good to him as Chat Noir before, so it had to be because it was permanent, didn’t it?  Plagg needed camembert to recharge, and right now Plagg was inside—around?  Part of?—Adrien, so Adrien had to eat camembert to help Plagg get through his hibernation.

It made sense, he supposed.  But that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

And he was definitely going to strangle Plagg if he was still lactose intolerant. 

 

“Have a nice day!”

Marinette smiled and waved at the cashier, thanking her again, and hefted her share of their new duffle bags full of supplies over her shoulders.  They were finally finished shopping, and it couldn’t have come too soon.  Her face was definitely starting to hurt from smiling, and they’d definitely posed for hundreds of photos.

She turned to Adrien, grinning at him.  “Ready to go?”

Adrien nodded, pulling his baton off his back and twirling it in his fingers.  “Very much, My Lady.”

They hadn’t even made it out the doors before a voice was calling their names, and Marinette sighed, pasting a smile on her face and turning around.

All breath left her body and it took all her effort to keep the smile on her face when she spotted who was trying to get their attention.

Alya and Nino were panting and all but collapsed in front of the heroes.  Adrien’s hand found hers, and they clung to each other.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.  They weren’t supposed to see their friends this early.  She wasn’t ready to see Alya, to lie to her face that she doesn’t know where Marinette is.  Everything inside her was screaming to run, to put this off until she could prepare herself.

But she couldn’t do that.  Ladybug couldn’t be seen running from people no doubt asking for help.

She squeezed Adrien’s hand harder, eyes firmly on their friends.  She couldn’t look at him.  If she looked at him, she’d break, and she had to keep her guilt and anguish hidden until they were back at the hotel.

“You have to help,” Alya started once she’d caught her breath, pulling herself back into standing upright, eyes pleading.  “Please, Ladybug, Chat Noir.  You need to look for them.”

Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat, unconsciously moving closer to Adrien.  “Look for who?”

“Adrien Agreste,” Nino supplied, a shaky hand holding out a photo for them to take.  “And Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  They went missing.  They’re our friends, and you have to help find them.”

Marinette’s free hand closed around the photo, eyes briefly glancing down at her and Adrien’s smiling faces before they were trained on their friends again.  She couldn’t speak, not with how desperate they looked.  Their eyes were puffy, and Alya’s hair looked like it hadn’t been combed that morning, only pulled into a half-hazard ponytail.  Nino was sporting a day’s worth of stubble, despite hating the feeling and taking the time to shave every morning.  Their clothes didn’t match, and Nino was wearing two different shoes, and they were gripping each other like they were the only thing keeping them standing.

So how could she say anything?  How could she make empty promises when they were standing there, looking absolutely wrecked and begging them for answers?  How could she lie to their faces, pretend she could do anything to help find people who weren’t technical missing?

“We’ll help.”

It was Adrien who finally spoke, after a pause that under any other circumstances Alya would have picked up on being far too long.  His voice was thick, heavy with emotions and tears that thankfully neither of their friends noticed.

She closed her eyes as Alya’s arms wrapped around her, the two spewing words of thanks and sobbing against the heroes.  Just a few more minutes.  She just had to hold it in for a few minutes, and then they could go back to the hotel.

Nino’s phone rang loudly, and Marinette jumped away from Alya, watching Nino wipe at his eyes as he stared at his phone.

“It’s my mom,” he said, voice hoarse from his tears.  Adrien’s hand tightened its grip.  “They must’ve told her we ditched.”

A final round of “thanks you”s were given, a few more tight, heartbreaking hugs, and then Alya and Nino headed off.

Marinette didn’t look at Adrien as she tucked the photo into one of the duffle bags and pulled her yo-yo off her hip.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice a broken whisper.  She squeezed Adrien’s hand one last time before dropping it, soaring up and onto the rooftops.

They didn’t speak as they made their way back to the hotel, didn’t look at each other despite the tears that had started to run down their cheeks.

They’d left the balcony doors open, and Marinette stumbled into their room, shedding her duffle bags with a sob.  Adrien was right behind her, echoing her actions and pulling her against him.

She pressed her face into his chest, fingers gripping desperately at his suit.  Adrien’s distressed purrs vibrated against her, arms pressing her tightly against him and face buried in her hair.

How could they do this?  How could they spend the indefinite future lying to the faces of everyone they love and care about?

Would it get easier?  One day, would she be able to look at Alya in an interview and not feel like her heart is being shredded?

She didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to contemplate that they’d be stuck like this for long enough that lying and watching her friends move on would become normal.

She didn’t know how long she could do this, be just Ladybug to the rest of the world, keep Marinette hidden away.  How long could this last before it broke her, before the guilt and the pain ate away at her until she was nothing?

From the tears soaking her hair, she knew Adrien felt the same, and she clutched him tighter.  He was her lifeline, the one tie to her life that she had left.  They’d keep each other sane, prevent them from breaking too much, from descending too far into their guilt.

Neither were quite sure how long they stood there before the tears stopped coming, before they were able to breathe again, and Marinette pulled back, wiping at her eyes.

“I think I’m going to have a bath,” she whispered, turning away from Adrien to search through the bags for a pair of her new pyjamas.  “I just need to soak for a while and not think.”

Adrien nodded, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes for a long moment.  “Not thinking sounds really good,” he agreed, though, personally, his version of not thinking ideally involved a nap.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but his cat ears twitched as they registered a dramatic increase in her heartrate.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his hands away so he could look at her.  What he could see of her skin almost matched her suit in colour, and her eyes were trained on the excessively fuzzy pyjamas in her hands.

“I’m taking a bath,” she mumbled, but it didn’t do anything to ease Adrien’s confusion.  Hadn’t they discussed this already?  Marinette took a shaky breath, eyes closing.  “I have to get out of my suit.”

Right.  That.

His hand came back up scratching at the back of his neck.  “Okay,” he said, forcing his voice to be steady.  “Okay.  I’ll, uh, help?”

Marinette nodded, turning her back to him, and Adrien swallowed heavily.  This wasn’t a big deal, right?  He was just helping Marinette strip.  All he was doing was literally ripping her out of her clothes and then she was going to go have a bath while he was here, only a wall in between them, and—

Nope.  He was stopping that train of thought before it went any farther.  That was finished.

He crossed the distance between them, raising a shaky hand towards the back of her neck.

_Think of something else.  Think about…camembert.  Think about how you have to eat camembert now, and how disgusting it’ll be if Plagg’s hibernation didn’t take away your lactose intolerance.  Yes.  Think about that._

“So I think I might cut it down your back,” he said, mind focused on dairy and its consequences and not on the shiver that ran through Marinette when his claws touched her skin.  “And down your arms.  And then you can, like, peel it down to your waist and put on a shirt?”

Marinette nodded.  “Sounds good.”  Her voice was breathy, but he wasn’t focusing on that.

_Cheese, cheese, cheese._

“Good,” he repeated, and pressed his claw down.

It didn’t take much pressure to split the fabric, and then his claw was trailing down and down her back.  It was getting harder and harder to ignore the shivers running through Marinette the lower he got, but, after a time that was somehow both too long and too short, he finally reached her waist.

He forced his hand away, breathing heavily, past dairy-related consequences running through his mind as he tried not to stare at the strip of skin revealed where the two halves of the suit peeled away.

“Now, uh.”  He paused, swallowing heavily.  “Now your arms.”

Marinette nodded, not saying anything.  Adrien didn’t know it, but she was afraid she couldn’t speak, or utter any sound that wasn’t some sort of high pitched squeak.  Somehow she’d get through this, and then she could hide in the bathroom until she could function again.

The sparks that Adrien’s claw dragging delicately down from her shoulder made getting through this harder, though, and she did let out a squeak when the front of her suit, now unattached on the left side, started to fold down.  She clutched at her chest with her right hand to hold it up.  This was already difficult enough to get through without Adrien seeing something she didn’t necessarily want him to see.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for him to cut down to the middle of her palms, and then he was turned around—resolutely Not Thinking about the topless Marinette behind him—and she was peeling off her suit.

It felt great, admittedly, to be able to feel air on her skin.  And the sensation of fuzzy pyjamas instead of spandex was even better.

“You can turn back around,” she told him, once the suit was hanging around her waist.  “I think it’d work best if you cut off, like, boots and maybe a line on each thigh and I could just—what?”

Adrien didn’t register the look of confusion on Marinette’s face, because his eyes were trained lower.  He stared for a few more long moments before his gaze finally flickered to her face, a grin spreading across his own.

“Love the pyjamas.”

Marinette glanced down, somehow becoming impossibly redder.  Her pyjamas were green—to Adrien, at least.  To Marinette, they were a light grey—with a large picture of his—Chat’s—face in the middle of a heart.  The matching pants, currently resting on the floor, were patterned with paw prints and hearts.

She huffed, trying to regain a bit of dignity.  “Well, you bought Ladybug pyjamas,” she pointed out.  “What would be the point of that if we didn’t match?”

Adrien grinned, stepping closer again.  “Or maybe you just want everyone to know that Chat Noir is the love of your life.”  Was that crossing a line?  Was there a line?  Were lines even a thing?

“Who’s going to see them for people to know that?” she wondered, crossing her arms around her chest.  “Besides you and me?  The room service people?”

Adrien shrugged, ignoring the voice that was loudly pointing out that she hadn’t denied anything he’d just said.  The time to think about that voice was not when he was about to platonically tear off her pants.

Speaking of.

“Should we get to the rest?” he suggested, gesturing vaguely at her bottom half.  “Boots first?”

It took a relatively short amount of time and a relatively large amount of tension before Marinette was finally freed of her suit, both a darker red than they’d ever achieved before.

Marinette gave a squeaky thanks, hurrying into the bathroom and closing the door, realizing too late that she’d forgotten to bring in any shampoo.  She didn’t think she could look at Adrien at the moment, though, so she instead bundled her hair on top of her head and made a note to wash it in the morning.

The Bourgeois’ hotel’s bathroom tubs were apparently magic, because it took barely any time to fill the Jacuzzi with water and an excess of bubbles, and then Marinette was sinking in, eyes closing in the bliss of a relaxing bath.

 

Everything was put away.  The food was stored in the cupboards in the kitchen area, and the clothes were neatly folded into the dressers and hanging in the closets.  The bathroom supplies were waiting in a duffle bag outside the bathroom door, and the rest of their things were put in functional places.

So now Adrien was relaxing in bed, the shredded remains of his suit in a tidy pile in the corner, wearing his own fuzzy Ladybug pyjamas and flipping through channels on the television.  The sound of the tub draining caught his ears, and he wondered if Marinette would want to order a movie.

He clicked the button on the remote, the television screen jumping to a news program.

_“—no idea how anyone could have gotten in.  Our security should have prevented anything like this from happening.”_

His breath caught in his throat, remote dropping to his lap as he stared at the television screen.  His father was there, being interviewed by some reporter who’s face didn’t even register.

Because that was his father.  His father, standing outside the mansion.

_“Adrien wouldn’t have run away.  Someone must have bypassed security and taken him.  I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I know he didn’t leave by choice.  Adrien.  Please, if you’re watching this, just let me know you’re okay.”_

His father, begging to know he was alright.

He choked on nothing, tears starting to cloud his vision, but he blinked them away, wanting to see his father.

Gabriel Agreste didn’t look much different than usual to the untrained eye.  His wardrobe was impeccable, his expression unreadable.

But Adrien could see the few stray hairs that he hadn’t managed to slick back.  He noticed the small wrinkles in his jacket, the way his hand clenched at his pant leg.

To anyone unfamiliar with the man, Gabriel Agreste was unaffected by his son’s disappearance.  But Adrien could tell he was barely holding it together.

_“Please.  If you’ve seen my son, or know where he is, please let us know.  Adrien, if you can hear me, just let me know that you’re alive.”_

The screen blurred and his eyes squeezed shut, but it didn’t matter.  His father had disappeared, replaced by others.

_“Marientte wouldn’t just leave.  I don’t know if she was with Adrien or not, but she wouldn’t just leave.”_

His eyes snapped open at the soft gasp from across the room, gaze falling to where Marinette was gripping at the doorframe.  It then flickered back to the TV.

Anyone could see that the Dupain-Chengs were not alright.  Their eyes were red and puffy, hair and clothing untidy.  They clutched each other like they were the only thing keeping them from falling apart, and Sabine was openly weeping.

_“Somebody took my daughter.  That’s the only explanation.  If she was able to, she’d get in touch with us, but she hasn’t.  She wouldn’t just disappear like this.”_

Marinette’s legs shook, and her grip on the doorframe tightened to keep herself standing, her other hand pressed against her mouth as though she could physically keep her sobs in.

_“Please, she’s all we have.  You have to bring her back.  Marinette, if you can see us, be brave, honey.  Don’t let them know you’re afraid.  The police are going to find you, and they’re going to bring you home to us.  You’re strong, Marinette.  You can get through this.  Please send our baby home.”_

A sob wracked Marinette’s body, and she stared through her tears until her parents disappeared from the screen, replaced by a newsroom and a picture of herself and Adrien.

_“Police have recently stated that evidence suggests that the kidnappings of Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are most likely related.  If you have any information of their whereabouts, you are asked to contact—”_

Adrien’s grip on the remote shook, and it clattered to the ground.  He tore his eyes from the TV to Marinette, opening his arms in invitation.  That was all it took before she was rushing across the room, crawling into his lap and holding him tightly.

Their sobs mixed together as well as their tears, shaking their bodies and soaking their pyjamas.  Adrien’s instinctive purrs did nothing to comfort either one, but the reminder that they weren’t alone did a little.

“We’re horrible people,” Marinette whispered into his neck during a break in their tears.

Though a large part of Adrien agreed, he shook his head.  “We don’t have a choice,” he reminded her.  “We didn’t choose to leave them.”

Marinette let out a shaky breath, knowing what he said was true.  But how broken her parents looked, the desperate hope in Alya and Nino’s eyes, even Chloe’s subtle distress from the night before wouldn’t leave her mind.

Yeah, they might not have a choice.  They might have only disappeared to protect those they love.

But did that really excuse putting them through all of this?

 

They didn’t even attempt to sleep in separate beds that night, just curling around each other for comfort.  Adrien’s ungloved hand was running through her hair, a soft purr rumbling in his chest and causing her to drift closer and closer to sleep.

The purr suddenly cut off, and Marinette’s half-asleep brain chose to groan in protest.

“Did you mean it?”

Adrien’s voice was quiet, and Marinette had no idea what he was talking about, as neither had said a word in a good hour.

“Did I mean what?”

She blinked her eyes open, ready to focus on this conversation as much as she could while being more asleep than awake, and met his own glowing eyes.

“About buying you dinner.”  Marinette didn’t need night vision to tell that Adrien had suddenly flushed.  The way his eyes darted away told her more than enough.  “Not the—the underwear part, but the dinner part.  Did you mean it?”

Marinette stared at him for a long moment, her exhausted brain working to figure out where this conversation was going.

And then it clicked, her eyes widening slightly, a tiny bit of the sleepiness disappearing.

“Are you—are you asking me on a-a date?”

Adrien took a sharp breath in, his eyes closing and forcing Marinette to lose her only source of light.

“Yeah,” he breathed.  Then, slightly more confidently, “Yeah, I am.”  His eyes opened once more, meeting Marinette’s in the darkness.  “Do you want to go on a date with me, Mari?”

Marinette offered him a tired smile before snuggling her face back into his neck and planting a kiss just above the collar of his shirt.

“I’d love to, Chaton.”

She felt him sigh with relief, relaxing around her.

“Clawsome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to that time I was babysitting this kid and we were in Walmart and a rugby team of hot guys walked past as I was wearing a packaged Spider-Man mask and having a lightsaber fight with a mini Batman.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! :D  
> Come follow me on Tumblr at probably-voldemort  
> Comments are life and kudos are golden! :)


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